The Never-Ending Sacrifice
by bluegoldrose
Summary: Secrets to keep or share. Choices of honor or love, duty or family. Who do you trust when the world is at war and winter is coming? Will it bring death or life, hope or despair? An alternate journey through ASOIAF. In which there is a 6th child of Ned & Cat Stark, a 2nd Snow of house Stark, and Ygritte lives. Multi-POV, Stark-centric, regular updates (longer description on profile)
1. The Dragon Prince and the She-Wolf

_Notes: I am a firm believer that fan-fiction is one of the best ways to improve writing; as such, I welcome critiques and constructive criticism as well as regular reviews. I frequently am working on improving chapters I have already posted as well as working on future chapters. I no proofreader but myself, though I would welcome a beta. I know where this story is going and hope that you enjoy the adventure with me. I based this story upon the books with a few plots from the show and my own story ideas thrown in for the fun of it._

* * *

The Never-Ending Sacrifice

Rhaegar found her in the woods, undressing carefully from her armor. He smirked and shook his head, 'of course it was the she-wolf'. He silently raised his sword and placed it behind her neck. She froze in place, her hands still on the armor she was unlacing. "My father thinks the Knight of the Laughing Tree wishes to overthrow him or is plotting against him and sent me to seek out the truth of the mystery Knight. Shall I tell him that Lord Rickard has a fourth son?"

"You could say you found nothing of the mystery knight my lord." Lyanna Stark's voice didn't waver, didn't seem frightened at all. Rhaegar Targaryen smiled, 'what manner of woman was she that she had no fear of a sword to her neck'.

"Turn to face me. Carefully as I will not lay down my sword." She did as commanded and faced him. The girl's look was so defiant he almost laughed aloud, and yet he remembered her crying at his song during the feast not so long ago. "Why do you fight in the lists?"

"Some men need to be taught lessons, so I did what I had to do. Besides which, a woman can fight just as well as a man." Her reply was fierce and her grey eyes hard.

"So I can see, but you are a lady." '_A lady who fights as if she were a man, though I would not encourage her at the moment.'_

She let out a derisive sound from the back of her throat. "Not by choice, I'd rather fight than sit in a room gossiping and sewing and acting like a doll that will one day be forced to bed whatever man my family chooses."

_'So that was the problem.' _"Robert Baratheon from what I have heard." Her glare confirmed his statement, and her obvious distaste. "I am sorry, though I have found that none of us really have a say in whom we wed and whom we love or even in our fates. Return the armor where you got it from and I will tell my father that I only found the shield of the Knight." It was the least he could do, she was no threat to his father. All his father ever fought anymore were the phantoms in his own mind, there were no enemies.

She raised an eyebrow, suspicious of him. "That's all?"

He smirked wickedly. "I could ask for a kiss."

She blushed angrily but didn't move as he still had his sword to her. "You're married, you wouldn't dare."

He laughed heartily. She was proving ever so fun to provoke. "I am also a prince so I can dare many things. However I will not, just go back to your tents and no harm will come to you." With that the prince sheathed his sword, picked up her shield, and walked away. Leaving a very perplexed, very annoyed Lyanna to finish removing and returning her armor.

* * *

Then the day came when Rhaegar won the tournament. He rode past his wife Elia and laid the wreath of flowers on Lyanna's lap. He smiled at her, the same wicked smile he had when asking her for a kiss. Elia's face was blank. The faces of all the others in attendance were shocked, dismayed, or quite salacious. Lyanna just glared back at him, blushing red as blood. Then the moment passed and everyone drew breath again as Rhaegar left the field.

Later that day, as many people were beginning to pack up their households, she found him and threw the wreath at his face. "What were you thinking!" She shouted at him, fury flowing through her like a fire. "You disgrace your wife before a crowd and give me the token of the tournament!" They were alone by the lake, in a copse of trees.

He frowned gently and thoughtfully, picking up the wreath and caressing the broken flowers. "My bride knew what I was going to do, we talked about it beforehand. Do you know she can bear me no more children? Rhaenys's birth left her bed-ridden and Aegon's nearly killed her. She came to the tournament to distract herself, he is with a wet-nurse now. She is still not quite recovered."

She was quieted, unsure of why he would tell her that information. "I'm sorry to hear that my lord."

He acknowledged her sentiment with a gentle nod of his head, his silver hair falling over his shoulder, and then continued. "For a long time I have had premonitions in my dreams. I suppose my family has that curse. We were told the Prince that was Promised will come from our line. The dragon must have three heads though, and if the Prince is of my line then I must have another child..." His voice trailed off and he saw her jaw drop at what he was implying.

"Have you gone mad! I won't be some mistress to a man, even if you are to be king one day!" The color had risen in her face again, and her fists curled.

"What about a second wife?" He spoke the words gently and simply, searching her face to see what she thought.

She found her balance against a nearby tree. "I'm promised to be married." The words sounded feeble on her lips but her brain wasn't working enough to form a different reply.

"To a man whom you despise." He scoffed. "The Targaryens aren't held to the same rules as the rest of the people. I may take two wives if I wish. You would be a second Queen, our child would be a Prince or Princess. We would just need to keep things quiet for a while."

She studied his face. The gentleness in his eyes and the brutal honesty in his face. She just had to know why. "Why me and why do you think I would agree?"

He mulled over her questions before he smiled and took a few steps nearer to her. "Because I have never met another woman like you, so strong and beautiful and sure of yourself. I fear that I never will again. I believe you will come with me because you don't want to marry Robert. You will come with me because I offer you something different, new, and exciting. Plus, I will let you wield a sword as you will."

She was looking at the ground, trembling. He placed his hands gently on her shoulders and ran them down to her hands, grasping her small hands with his large ones. "I'm sorry if I frighten you. I tend to run on passion and you inspire that in me."

She squeezed his hands and met his beautiful dark indigo eyes. "I'm not afraid, not of you. I'm just overwhelmed. I will go with you. I... I just worry what everyone may think."

He gently caressed her face with one hand. "Everything will be fine, I swear it to you." Then he pressed his lips to hers and it felt like fire melting ice.

* * *

Telling her of his father's madness would be the hardest thing he had ever done, Rhaegar realized as he climbed the stairs to the chamber they shared. He had not anticipated his father's insanity, nor the impulsiveness of Lyanna's brother. They should have told everyone the truth. They should have declared that he was going to take a second wife. Yet when he saw her all he wanted to do was run away with her, and not care about the consequences. Now the consequences were too high and they would be higher still by the day. First he needed to tell Lyanna. He needed to break the news to her about her family and watch her heart break before him. The gods were cruel to allow someone so beautiful to have such pains inflicted upon her.

She was resting in their chambers. Her brown curls flowing all about her head. The room was filled with the beautiful roses she loved so much. '_How can I tell her...?' _"Lyanna." He said her name gently and kissed her on the lips, waking her.

She smiled at him sleepily. "My prince." Her face grew stony as she looked at him, and she seemed at once more awake. "What's wrong?"

He sat on the bed beside her, clasping her hands gently with his. "There was a raven from King's Landing. There is no easy way to tell you this. Your father and brother Brandon were executed for treason by my father. Brandon had called for my head and your release, not knowing we were not at the capital. Your brother Eddard, along with Robert Baratheon and Jon Arryn have declared war."

She stared at him for a long time. She made no sound or expression. "I want to see the letter," she whispered finally. He gave her the letter and watched her read the words over and over again until the tears ran from her eyes and made the ink run on the page. "NO!" She screamed suddenly, standing up and pulling away from him.

"You... you liar! You promised everything would be fine! Even your wife Elia said everything would be fine! You said nothing would happen, that we would all be fine!" She sobbed violently, her whole body shaking with rage and despair. "Will your father kill the rest of my family? Will you kill my brothers who remain?"

He had no good reply to that. "I must answer my father's summons and do my duty. I never thought this would happen. You know that we were waiting until you were with child for our announcement."

He wanted to hold her close but he didn't know if she would collapse in his arms or try to scratch his face off or both. "I should have sent my father a raven," she choked out softly. "If I had told them anything they would still be alive."

"Don't blame yourself. If I had never given you that crown of flowers..." He felt the guilt wash over himself in waves.

She collapsed back onto the bed and sobbed against his shoulder. "We can't tell anyone now can we?"

He shook his head. "It's too dangerous now. I need to keep you safe."

She looked at him with hollow eyes. "You have to leave don't you?"

He sighed and caressed her face. "Soon. I need to fight my father's war. I will leave two of my Kingsguard with you when I return to my father."

She nodded slowly, finding that all of her strength was gone.

He tarried a fortnight longer before returning to King's Landing to fight for his father's cause and to return to his first wife and children.

She would never see him again.

* * *

_Originally this was chapter 3, but I decided that I wanted the story to be chronological... enjoy! (this chapter has been expanded from what it originally was, a task I am applying to the first several chapters)_


	2. The Quiet Wolf and the Falling Star

_a/n: New chapter two! This took me a lot of work, but my brain now thinks this is basically how everything happened in canon plus or minus a few things. I hope you enjoy it! Catelyn 1 will be edited further to reflect this chapter shortly._

* * *

She laughed as she danced, Ned noticed. She spun and twirled like a butterfly, and her eyes, oh her eyes were the color of amethysts. He was too shy by far to talk to her. Ashara Dayne, who was so painfully beautiful that she could only be a dream. He wanted to dance with her too, and more than dance. He couldn't ask her though, he would just turn red and stay quiet.

Brandon saw Ned looking at her throughout the dances. "Go dance with her, brother. Before you freeze to stone in your seat wanting and never taking."

"I don't know what to say to her. I think of words but my mind loses them when I see her." Ned mumbled into his wine.

Brandon laughed and clapped his younger brother on the back. "You just ask if she would like to dance." With that, Brandon Stark stood and walked over to Ashara Dayne. She was retrieving a glass of wine for herself after the dance ended, and looked surprised that Brandon had gone to speak with her.

Ned reddened and looked down at the table. Surely Brandon wouldn't dance with her and insult his brother, yet Brandon was all impulse so Ned wasn't quite sure. "Excuse me," said a soft feminine voice a few moments later.

Ashara was standing before him, a gentle smile on her face. Brandon stood a bit behind her, grinning like a child who had just stolen treats he was forbidden. "Your brother said that you wanted to dance with me, but were too shy to ask. I would love to dance with you, if you want."

He swallowed the lump in his throat. "My lady, it would be an honor to dance with you."

He walked around the table and took her arm gently. He felt as though he was walking on air the whole time they danced. She was more charming up close than she had been from afar. She encouraged him through the dances, laughed merrily at the small talk they made, and asked him to escort her back to her tents.

On the walk back to her tent they laughed and talked. She was very good at putting him at ease, asking simple questions and finding out what he liked so that they would be able to speak at length. The walk to her tent was not long enough, he mourned.

"Thank you for a wonderful evening Eddard." She said softly, with a gentle smile on her face.

"Please, call me Ned, all of my friends do. I loved every moment that we have spent together tonight. I hope we can see one another more throughout the tournament." The words came pouring out of his mouth, surprising even himself. He was always quiet and thoughtful, but she seemed to be able to pull words from him with no trouble and could stop his thoughts with a smile. His pulse beat wildly just looking at her.

She caressed his cheek with her small, cold hand. "I would be delighted to see you more." Then she gave him a soft peck on the lips and before he could react she slipped into her tent.

He walked for some time before returning to his tent. Upon entering, he found his brother Brandon kissing the neck of a blonde girl while Benjen and Howland Reed slept. Ned raised an eyebrow and coughed, startling the pair. The girl flushed red, gave Brandon a parting kiss, and hurried out with her face down.

Brandon flopped face-down onto the cot and sighed. Ned just stood there, staring at his brother. "Who was that?"

Brandon shrugged. "I think a Hightower, though I could be wrong."

"You're betrothed to Catelyn Tully." Ned reminded his brother as he sat upon his own cot and pulled off his boots.

"Yes, but not wedded or bedded to her and still young enough to have fun when I see it." He laughed easily. "I'll not bed another girl once I've married Lady Catelyn. So how did you like Ashara, you were out quite late you know."

Ned mumbled something to himself as he pulled off his clothes and put on a night robe. His older brother propped himself up and looked at him. "What was that?"

"We danced, and talked, and I walked her to her tent. Thank you for having her talk to me." Ned smiled softly. "Sleep well Bran."

He groaned. "I'm too old for that name anymore Ned. Sleep well little brother."

Ned would meet Ashara at the end of the day's games or after she left Princess Elia later in the day. They would take long walks around Harrenhal and discuss the mysterious Knight of the Laughing Tree who had appeared at the tournament. Ned didn't tell her his suspicions that the knight was Howland Reed. He didn't really care, so long as he could talk to her and look at her and kiss her. He kissed her first the second time he had walked her to her tent. It was a long, passionate kiss, and they melted into one another's arms. He had kissed girls before, in the Eyrie, often at Robert's prodding. He enjoyed their kisses, but they were nothing like Ashara. It was like that every night, the walking, talking, and kissing.

Upon walking back to his tent three days into the tournament, Ned noticed his sister walking back to her tent alone. "Lya, why are you out alone this late?" His voice was scolding, he knew, and she just wrinkled her nose at him.

"Why are you out so late brother?" She shot back, her head held high.

"I am not a girl who could be harmed by a man." He said with concern.

She rolled her eyes and slipped a dagger from her boot. "I'm fine Ned. No one will hurt me. How have things been with Lady Ashara?" She was trying to distract him and succeeded. He blushed.

"We just talk." He mumbled.

"So late?" She said with a grin.

He sighed, he had to give her something before she would give anything back. "We talk a lot and… kiss. Now what were you doing?"

She had an odd expression at that, somewhere between amused and profoundly annoyed. "Being threatened by a prince." She pulled her hair to the side and he could see a thin cut on her neck. He flushed between pale from fear and red from fury. She put a hand gently on his. "Ned, it's nothing to worry about. He didn't even realize that he cut me. He was talking to me about." She paused and sighed deeply. "I was the secret knight in the jousts. He caught me taking off the armor. We talked, and then he took the shield and told me to put the armor back where I had found it. He won't say anything."

Ned shook his head. "You are too much like Brandon; I fear it will hurt both of you in the end."

She laughed. "You worry too much. I'm a free woman until I am forced to marry your horrid friend, until then I can do as I wish. Brandon will marry soon and he will settle down as well. Learn to have fun and enjoy life Ned."

He knew there was no winning the fight with her, so he hugged her. "I worry about you little sister. I am glad you are safe. Sleep well, Lya."

She smiled up at him. "I love you, you sleep well too Ned."

The following day Brandon was defeated by Rhaegar Targaryen in the jousts. Ned was disappointed for his brother; Ashara was happy for her lady's husband. They decided to take a ride away from the tournament toward the lake. They dismounted and walked around once Ned secured the horses. He took her by the hand and they strolled near the water. They had not walked very far when she caressed his face and kissed him passionately, leaving him breathless.

"I don't want this tournament to end." She murmured into his neck. "I don't want to leave you."

He sighed against her. "We could ask our fathers if we could be promised. If, if that's something you want."

"Nothing would make me happier. It may take some time. I would want to talk with my father in person about you." She smiled at him, her face radiant.

"Maybe we should wait until my brother Brandon marries, and my sister Lyanna." He said as he smiled back at her. "Two marriages is probably enough for my father to handle right now."

She laughed merrily. "I can imagine. Soon though, soon we can be together."

With few more words they resumed their kissing. Slowly, they found themselves on the ground, pulling at clothes and laces. They whispered few words, being driven by desire for one another.

His hands were up her skirts and his trousers were half off when the reality of what they were doing finally broke out in Ned's mind. He stilled, wanting her, watching her chest rise and fall with heavy breaths. "Are you... do you... I mean..."

She groaned. "I love you Ned. Please, I want you." Her eyes were dark with lust, and her hips moved against him. He realized he couldn't resist her. So he continued up her skirts, until he found his desire. He felt no shyness with her as they felt one another, and it was ecstasy that he found soon with himself between her legs. When their lovemaking was finished, they realized how low the sun was in the sky and hurried back to their horses and their tents. With a kiss that seemed almost chaste, the two parted for the night.

The following day was the final day of the tournament. Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and Ser Barristan Selmy were the final two contenders, and they fought hard against one another. Ned stood with Brandon, Benjen, Lyanna, and Robert Baratheon. Ned glanced to Ashara occasionally throughout the match; she was seated with Princess Elia and her retinue and glanced to him occasionally as well. Both men fought well, but Rhaegar won in the end. The wreath of blue roses for the Queen of Love and Beauty was placed upon the Prince's lance and he rode straight past his wife and placed the wreath in Lyanna's lap.

The silence of the crowd was deafening. Some of the people were smirking, or making crude jests to one another. Most however, had faces showing shock or dismay. Robert was furious and stomped away from the crowd. Ned noticed that the Dragon Prince smirked a little and with a bow of his head, left the field. Ned and his brothers escorted their sister to their tents. She was shaking they had realized, but they didn't realize at first that she was shaking from fury.

"I'll throw the flowers in his face!" She shouted as soon as they were within the confines of their tent.

"Lya, don't do anything rash, he's our crowned Prince," said Brandon.

She was crushing the flowers in her hands. "He won't hurt me, and I don't care!"

* * *

Months later Ned and Robert Baratheon received word in the Eyrie that Lyanna had been taken from White Harbor by Prince Rhaegar. Lord Robert wanted to go to the Stormlands and lead an army to take Rhaegar's head. Lord Arryn urged patience and caution, and they waited. They waited when news of Brandon Stark and his men riding out from Riverrun to confront the crowned Prince arrived. They waited when news of Brandon's capture and a call for Rickard Stark and the father's of the men who were with Brandon was sent out. Later, news reached them of the way in which King Aerys killed the Starks and their men. It was that same day when Jon Arryn sat the new Lord Stark and the Lord Baratheon down in his solar and spoke with them.

"King Aerys wants your heads." The old man told them simply. The two young men looked at him with anger in their eyes. Robert started to speak, but Jon simply held out his hand and continued. "I will not kill you boys, and I will not let the murders of Lord Rickard and Brandon Stark to go without protest. The King is mad, that is clear enough for anyone to see now. We will raise up our banners and go to war against him."

Lord Baratheon cheered. Eddard Stark only nodded his head in quiet agreement. _My father is dead. My brother is dead. I am Lord of Winterfell. _They made their plans together and raised their banners in rebellion. After the Battle of Gulltown was won for their side, the Lord of Winterfell went north to raise his bannermen and the Lord of Storm's End went south to raise his bannermen.

Jon had told Ned that they would need more allies. The wisest course of action seemed to be keeping the promise of Rickard Stark to Hoster Tully that Lady Catelyn Tully would marry the heir of the North. Lord Hoster agreed to wed Catelyn to Eddard and Lysa to Jon Arryn. So, after the Battle of the Bells, Eddard Stark and Jon Arryn led their companies to Riverrun.

The two Tully girls were beautiful; dressed in white with blue and silver accents, the girls stood before their soon to be husbands in the sept. Ned felt a twinge of pity for the younger girl Lysa, she was to marry a man older than her own father. Jon Arryn was a good, kind man, but he doubted the young girl would see past Jon's grey hair.

His eyes, however, were on Lady Catelyn Tully, his bride. Her auburn hair hung half up in a long braid and half down, flowing over her shoulders and down the length of her back. Her eyes were the purest blue, bright and gentle. She was better than Brandon had ever described.

She wasn't Ashara. He felt a stabbing pang of guilt as he said his vows, remembering the girl at Harrenhal he had given his love to, the girl whose virtue he had taken. After the tournament had ended, they had found one another again much later that day. Ashara seemed worried about Princess Elia, but they soon stopped speaking about the tournament and he found himself within her again. They had promised to speak of betrothal after Brandon and Lyanna were married. Now though, Brandon was dead, Lyanna stolen away, and the country at war. House Dayne had sworne its loyalty to the crown, and House Stark was in open rebellion. Marriage to Ashara Dayne was no longer an option.

So with duty to his house in mind, he said his marriage vows to the girl who should have been his brother's wife. The wine, music, and song made everyone merry, but he found it hard to smile. This was his celebration, but only because his family had been murdered. Later, he and Catelyn were escorted up the steps by the guests, their clothes pulled off as they went. Finally, they were alone and quite naked, in their wedding bed.

Her body was beautiful. He couldn't deny that. It was confusing to be so aroused by one woman while his heart still cared for another. _Ashara is lost to me; Catelyn is my bride. _He had noticed that her whole body blushed red when they had taken off her dress, he thought it beautiful.

"I," he began, pausing at the word. "I know that you were to marry my brother, and that you should have been his. I am sorry that you lost him."

She gave him a sad half-smile. "My lord, he was your brother. I can not imagine how you must feel now."

He nodded. "Please, call me Ned, I am your husband now. I will be a good husband to you, I promise that."

"Call me Cat if I am to call you Ned." She spoke gently, nervously. "I will always do my duty to you as a wife." She blushed a deep shade of red, nearly matching her hair. "We should…"

He nodded and flushed a little. He kissed her as he had a few hours before when they wed. Together they pushed the covers aside and kissed again and again, until something close to lust filled them. They touched one another gently, exploring the curious ways that it made them feel. When she seemed ready, he entered her. He muttered an apology at her pain, as he had with Ashara. Ashara had laughed and kissed him. Catelyn just nodded and said that it was ok. When they were finished, he cleaned them both and they fell asleep beside one another.

* * *

Months later Ned found himself in Dorne. He was on the way to the Tower of Joy, where Lyanna was said to be kept. Rhaegar was dead at the Trident at Robert's hand. King Aerys, Princess Elia, Princess Rhaenys, and Prince Aegon were all dead in King's Landing. Queen Rhaella and Prince Viserys had escaped to Dragonstone. Now Robert Baratheon was called King of the Seven Kingdoms.

They were seven companions Ned Stark, Howland Reed, William Dustin, Ethan Glover, Martyn Cassel, Theo Wull, and Mark Ryswell. They arrived to see Oswell Whent, Gerold Hightower, and Arthur Dayne, the last loyal Kingsguard of Aerys awaiting them. They spoke few words and then they fought. Ned could hear Lyanna scream inside the tower. He had to get his sister back, to keep her safe.

His sword ran through Arthur Dayne, Ashara's brother, and it felt like betrayal. Beside him all were dead except Howland. Ned climbed the tower and found Lyanna, laying in her bed with blood everywhere. He barely noticed the young woman in the room who was crying.

"Ned," Lyanna's voice came softly. "Ned I'm so sorry, sorry for everything."

"No." He gently caressed her cheek. "Lya, nothing was your fault."

She shook her head in protest. "It was all my fault. I married him Ned, at an old weirwood tree. We ran away together." She let out a ragged sob. "It was going to be a secret until I had a child, but then Aerys..."

"Aerys is dead. Our family is avenged." He said soothingly.

With what little strength was left to her she shook her head vigorously. "The guards were for my child. Ned, promise me you need to keep them safe."

Ned looked and finally saw the young woman who was holding a babe in her arms, and gently touching another bundle in a cradle. Howland was in the room then, surveying the scene quietly.

"Promise me Ned," she whispered again. The color was draining from her face as her blood soaked the bed.

"I promise Lya." Ned whispered, a lump in his throat. "I promise to keep them safe."

He sat there, grasping her hand as she died. He was frozen in grief and guilt. _What have I done? What have we all done? The Kingsguard were for my sister and the child she was about to bear. I killed Ashara's brother. _Howland pried Ned's hands from those of his dead sister.

They prepared the bodies as best they could, lighting funeral pyres for each of them from the furniture within the tower. Lyanna's bones were carefully gathered from her pyre and placed inside a chest so that she could be buried in Winterfell. The rest were laid to rest in funeral cairns made from stones that they gathered from the tower. There were fresh horses in a stable, and goats as well. They used the goat milk for the babes, and finding a carriage, loaded what they needed inside. Jyana, the girl who had been Lyanna's maid, cared for the children as they traveled. They were riding to Starfall, Ashara's home, where he would return Ser Arthur's sword to his sister.

Their arrival at Starfall was a solemn one. He met Lady Ashara in her solar. She was as beautiful as he remembered, but he now had a wife and soon a child at Riverrun. Howland, Jyana, and the children were being tended to elsewhere, and a wet-nurse had been called for the babes. Ned placed Dawn, Ser Arthur's greatsword, upon a table before her. To Ned's surprise, she didn't even shed a tear.

"I'm so sorry Ashara," he whispered. "I'm so sorry for all of this."

She walked to him and touched his cheek gently, as she had so long ago at Harrenhal. "When last I saw you, there was nothing in the world that could make me sad. Now... When I heard that you married Catelyn Tully, my heart broke. When my father died in the war I felt that my strength was gone. Now you bring me my brother's sword and tell me that you are sorry."

She didn't seem angry, he found that he wished she was angry. She just seemed numb, as numb as he felt. "Did you kill him?"

He could only nod sadly. "May the gods give him rest." She whispered. "Walk with me Ned."

He complied and walked with her. They walked in silence, side by side, neither wishing to speak. She led him out of the castle to a large graveyard. Eventually she knelt before a small stone beneath a large tree. "This was my greatest loss Ned." He scarcely heard her whispered words as she looked at the grave with tears in her eyes.

He didn't understand, not at first. Then he looked around and saw that all of the grave markers in the section they stood in were smaller than in the rest of the yard. They were in a section reserved for infants. When had Ashara known a child who died?

"Rhaegar's children can have the nurse Wylla accompany them on your trip back to Winterfell." Ashara's words shook him to the core, if she knew then so could anyone else. "Oh Ned, of course they are your sister's why else would my brother and the kingsguard have been at the tower. The secret is safe with myself and Wylla. She nursed my little Rosalyn when she wouldn't latch onto me. She looked so much like you Ned. She had your eyes. She got sick... so sick..."

Ashara stopped talking and just started to weep. Ned fell to his knees and held her as she sobbed. That's when the tears came into his eyes as well. He had lost a father, a brother, a sister, and friends in this war. He had lost Ashara when he married Catelyn. This though, he had never expected that he could have lost a child that he never knew.

"I'm sorry Ashara. I'm so sorry. I loved you. I still love you. I would have married you." He whispered into her hair as he held her.

She stared at him with her beautiful violet eyes. "Would you leave her for me?"

He felt a knife go through his heart. There was no way he could say yes, even though he wanted to stay with her. "I can't."

She lowered her eyes sadly, picked herself up, and walked away. He stayed at the grave, memorizing every detail of the stone which said so few words. It was night when he returned to the castle. The next day, Ashara Dayne was dead. She had thrown herself from the Palestone Sword.


	3. Rosalyn

Rosalyn Snow watched her brothers practicing swordplay with wooden swords in the yard below. Her twin Jon and their half-brother Robb were sparring. Jon was better than Robb, in her opinion at least. He tried harder, competed harder, fought to be seen in the shadow of his legitimate brother. They had a good rhythm to their fight. Thrust, parry, side-step, thrust, parry, jump-back. They were laughing as they fought; teasing and taunting one another as they performed a "deadly" waltz with one another.

Near them was Theon Greyjoy. He was smirking as always. He only cheered on Robb, making comments at Jon that were meant to discourage him but in the end the negative words seemed only to spur him on. Theon had often made salacious comments at Rosalyn. He tried to do so when she was alone, because if either Robb or Jon were near they would put Theon in his place.

Her brothers were both very protective of her, though Jon more so than Robb. Jon was her protector, her twin. He was the one who knew the same disgrace of being a bastard. The one who felt the pain of being pushed aside when only the legitimate children were wanted. He was the one that she had planned to run away to the free cities with when they were all of ten years old. They never made it past the gate, but it was still a valiant effort. He was the one who would threaten to kill Theon if the Iron boy ever touched her. The last time Theon had said something they finally told their father. Now Theon just walked away from Rosalyn whenever she was near.

Bran was down there as well. He was cheering for both brothers. He was quieter today than he had been before yesterday. Yesterday had been the first execution the boy had ever witnessed. His dark eyes were sadder and more solemn upon his return than they had ever been before. He was such a sweet boy, and so adventurous. He loved to climb the walls of Winterfell, much to Lady Catelyn's displeasure. Finding the direwolves had helped keep Bran's disposition up.

There were six pups and seven children. Jon had told her that there were originally only five that they found. The five grey-black pups for the trueborn children of Lord Stark. He told her that was what he said to their father and a tear left Rosalyn's eye. Then he showed her Ghost, the albino direwolf that he found after the five. He offered her the wolf and she smiled at him. She laughed and told him that he found Ghost so the pup was his since he found it. He told her that they would share Ghost. Robb, Bran, Rickon, Sansa, and Arya each claimed one of the pups as their own. Even Sansa, the lady-in-training, loved the creatures. Arya asked Rosalyn if she was sad about not having her own wolf and Rosalyn just laughed, saying that she preferred cats. Arya made a face at that and all the siblings laughed.

Five for the trueborn children but one for the bastards. She wished that there were a way for her to leave the shame of being a bastard. What could be done with a bastard though? The stigma was unfair, it wasn't your fault that your parents conceived you. Jon and Rosalyn never even knew who their mother had been, their father always refused to talk about her. She knew that soon something would need to be done with both her and Jon. They were getting older and Lady Stark was growing unhappier with the twins existence as the months and years progressed.

Jon would be easier to find a place for than Rosalyn. Males couldn't inherit but they could become knights or join the Night's Watch. There was always work for men, always a chance to earn prestige. Women though, well it was hard enough being a woman without being a bastard. If she were born to a poor family she would work just like everyone else be it at an inn or a farm, as a baker, farmer, or a whore.

She had cried to her father once, when she was about eleven, asking him what would become of her. He smoothed her brown hair. Wiped away her tears. Then he sat her upon his knee, and told her that some day he would find her a good man to marry. She believed him then, but as the years passed doubts tended to creep inside. Highborn bastard daughters were impossible to marry off, unless you married them off to highborn bastard sons. She knew that if she lived in the south she could be sent off to become a Septa, but she was from the North and followed the old gods of her father. She had to trust that her father knew what was best for her, that some day he would find a good man for her to marry. Then she wouldn't have to worry about Lady Stark, or about being a bastard girl.

Down in the yard, Robb hit Jon in leg with the wooden blade, but it gave Jon enough advantage to thrust at Robb's center and knock him to the ground. Jon smiled in triumph. The boys laughed and cheered. Jon offered Robb a hand up and the boys stood together again. For the next round Jon and Bran would spar, and Robb and Theon would as well.

She sighed and turned from the window. She was supposed to be sewing with her sisters, though Septa Mordane wasn't watching them for the moment. The septa had gone to speak with Lady Stark about some matter or another. She sat down and returned to her needlework.

She was grateful for her sisters most of the time. In some ways they made it easier to bear being around their mother, in some ways they made it worse. Catelyn Stark loved her children, yet she only tolerated her husband's bastards. Jon could at least avoid her by being with the men and learning sword play. Rosalyn had to remain with the women of the household. She had to learn to sew, dance, sing, and be a lady. So she tried to be the perfect example of a lady, virtuous, courteous, graceful, polite, hoping that it would earn Lady Stark's love. It never worked, her father's wife still scowled at her and showered affection upon her own children. Rosalyn was relieved that her father had consented to her learning plants and herb-lore with the Maester. The glass gardens had quickly become her refuge away from Lady Stark, and she loved learning the properties of the different plants.

Her sisters were the reminder that she was not a Stark, but they were also how she fit into the family. As the oldest girl, Sansa and Arya both looked up to her. Sansa, always wanting to be a lady, would try to follow Rosalyn's example since she was around her sister more than her mother. Her little sister wanted to dress like her, dance like her, and sew like her, in truth Sansa was already better at all of those things. Sansa was a proper lady, even so young. Sansa and her friend Jeyne Poole were sewing together and chatting about the knights who would some day win their hearts.

Then there was Arya, making her needle work a mass of knots. She could never sit still and was fidgeting as usual. Arya loved Jon and Rosalyn more than her full-blood siblings. The three of them would sometimes hide away from everyone else and run around like wild things. The girl wanted a sword of her own desperately, Rosalyn knew. Arya looked to the window with longing, hearing the boys at play below. The youngest girl would crawl into bed with her and night sometimes and they would whisper secrets to one another.

Rosalyn realized that Sansa too seemed to be impatient with her stitches. It had to be the wolf pups. The children had all formed incredible bonds with the animals in just a day. They were adorable creatures, though one day they would become fierce beasts. Ghost's eyes were already open and the others were already beginning to open. They were no fragile dogs even though they were being nursed by some of the bitches in the kennel.

Finally the septa returned and told them that they were free to play. Jeyne left them. Sansa, Arya, and Rosalyn walked to see the direwolves. Well, Arya ran as fast as her short legs would take her. They walked past the boys in their sword play. Bran was winning, though Jon was just letting him win. Theon was winning against Robb and was not going easy on him. The girls reached the kennel and were welcomed happily by the pups. Even Sansa didn't mind kneeling in the straw to pet them. Not much later they were joined by Jon and Bran, a short while after that Robb came in with little Rickon. Together the children laughed and played. They played until they were discovered by their father who told them they were late for dinner. They were covered in dirt and straw but they just smiled at him and he at them, all of them content to be surrounded by their family.

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_A/N: Rosalyn has a surprisingly low amount of chapters in this story, Catelyn has many more, with a more diverse selection of POVs as the story changes from the canon. With this series I tend to frown upon original characters as there are an overwhelming number of characters as is. However I wanted to explore a bastard daughter's perspective on life in Westeros. There are also other changes to main characters throughout. I draw from both the books and the show, when important I will mention which I am drawing from for that character. (also, this chapter has been updated and expanded)_


	4. Catelyn

Bran was unconscious and his body broken. His direwolf was anxious in the yard. The girls and Lord Stark were to head south that day, despite Bran's injuries. Jon was leaving too, going to the Wall to become a man of the Night's Watch. Rosalyn had been told she would be married off soon, her father just needed to find a good match, though matches for bastard girls were nearly impossible to find. Lady Catelyn was angry that Rosalyn was staying but there was no other place for the girl to go.

Catelyn had not moved from Bran's side since he was placed in his bed and she had said her goodbyes to the girls in that room. She knew they had yet to leave, and that she should see them off but she couldn't bear to leave Bran. Jon had come and gone, much to Catelyn's fury. Eddard had not said his goodbyes yet, but she knew it would be soon. She didn't expect Rosalyn to appear in the room.

She disliked the girl as she disliked Jon, they were a source of continual grief to Catelyn, and a reminder of her husband's betrayal. Yet she knew the girl would never be more than a helper in the household and was always polite. She had brought in food and drink for Catelyn and Bran. She even apologized for intruding. Yet the girl didn't leave, she went to the window and looked outside.

"I am sorry that I must remain here in your care, my lady, I know that you would rather not have to have me as your charge. I just hope that I can help you and not be a burden. We both lose much today." The girl's voice was soft and sad.

Catelyn was speechless. The girl continued to look out the window, and Lady Stark realized she was watching the carriages being loaded. She joined the girl at the window, she could see Arya chasing her wolf around the yard and Sansa clearly scolding her little sister. Catelyn smiled sadly, oh how she would miss her girls. How she would miss her husband. How much more would Ned's bastards miss one another, the thought flitted through her mind.

The two women looked at each other, and in bright daylight Catelyn noticed something odd. She supposed it was because she never allowed herself close proximity to her husband's bastards that she had never really looked at the girl, or paid enough attention to her. Cat put her hand on the girl's chin and looked at her eyes. The bastard girl had Ned's hair, but her face and eyes told another story. She didn't have a Stark face, but she had known a family that had those features at one time. Rosalyn was frozen in the older woman's surprisingly gentle hand. Cat was studying her and her eyes widened in surprise.

"Find your father and have him meet me by the tree in the godswood," she breathed finally, as though she had seen a ghost.

Rosalyn nodded, confusion written on her face. "Yes my lady," she ran off to find her father.

He was among the carts and horses in the yard, making sure everything was prepared for the journey and giving further instruction to those who were staying behind. She called to him but he didn't hear her until she was standing in front of him. She inclined her head politely to him and spoke breathlessly. "Lady Stark requests your presence at the weirwood immediately." He looked somewhere between alarmed and confused. "Bran is fine." At that he seemed relieved. He took his leave of her and told his men to continue and left for the godswood.

He found his lady pacing by the heart tree, her hands anxiously fidgeting with one another. "Cat," he spoke gently. She turned to him, pale and unkempt from her vigil at Bran's side. Yet there was some other emotion in her face he couldn't recognize.

"Who is their mother," her voice wavered. She was so quiet that he had to step closer and have her repeat her words to hear. They stood by the pool of water at the base of the tree. She continued, not waiting for his answer and not caring what emotions his face displayed. "Rosalyn has violet eyes, very pale, without bright light they may seem blue or grey but they are violet. Whose child is she?"

Ned Stark froze. The mask he wore over his emotions as Lord of Winterfell was not usually one he used for his wife, yet he suddenly was so serious and stoically blank that she trembled. He gently but firmly held her arms with his hands. She knew he had said to never bring the subject up, yet this could not be ignored, a lingering doubt whispered that they were Ashara Dayne's children but she wasn't so sure. She saw him swallow hard. Then he whispered one word and she felt her knees weaken and the world spin. "Lyanna."

There was silence, and time stopped. She whispered back to him a question and statement. "Rhaegar." He gave a quick nod. She felt bereft, sick, and strangely relieved.

His voice was thick with emotion when he spoke again. His words whispered so only she could hear. "She died birthing them and made me promise to keep them safe. Robert would have killed them for the blood they have, or kept them as his own bastards for the obsession he has for my sister. Only Howland Reed was with me, and Lyanna's maid. She was a quiet young girl and didn't question anything. Reed later married the maid and they swore themselves to secrecy. After burying the dead and preparing my sister for transport we travelled to Starfall to return Arthur Dayne's sword to his family." He stopped, lost in memory.

"I told you never to ask about their mother for more than one reason, when you asked me about Ashara. I had loved Ashara once, at the tournament when Rhaegar crowned Lyanna Queen of Love and Beauty… We were young, infatuated, and unpromised. She and I spent a night together at the tournament. I could have been married to her… You were promised to Brandon. It was duty to marry you, though the love I have for you now could never be replaced. Then with all that followed I chose duty instead of love. I dishonored Ashara and myself and chose to honor the promises of my father and brother. Then to see her again so young and beautiful, and I... I had slain her brother and married another woman. When I told her everything she took me for a walk to a small gravestone by a tree in the cemetery of her family; it bore the name Rosalyn."

He breathed painfully, lost in emotions long buried. "The nurse Wylla told me more of what happened with Ashara when we travelled to Winterfell. Ashara had gone south soon after the Tourney at Harrenhal, when she learned that she was with child. The child was birthed healthy but became sick and died within a few months. My bastard daughter Rosalyn, for whom the girl we raise is named. The sorrow of all I had told her, and choosing to stay true to my vows to you, drove her to madness and she threw herself into the sea."

"My choices for duty and honor led to death. So I swore to keep the children safe, and to never speak the memory of Ashara Dayne again."

Catelyn's eyes were filled with tears. So many secrets he had held, so many things burdening his heart that he could never speak. Her heart broke for Ned. "You send a Prince to the Wall?"

The sorrow left his eyes and filled with fire. "Never speak of it! Jon goes to the Wall for his safety. Rosalyn I leave in your protection but she is still my bastard daughter to you and all the world. Let them live normal lives and never believe themselves to be anything but Starks, they will be safer for it. We will all be safer for it. If anyone ever learned the truth we would all be killed!"

She nodded solemnly, frightened. The King, Queen, and half their household were in Winterfell right now. They had already tried to kill Bran, Cat was convinced of that. If anyone knew about the twins... She changed the subject. "Do you know why Rhaegar took Lyanna?"

Ned sighed heavily. "She said she loved him, that she married him at an old weirwood in a godswood. She made me promise to keep them safe and return her body to Winterfell. She was so impulsive and headstrong, so like our Arya."

Tears fell from Catelyn's eyes and he gently wiped them away. "Keep them safe Ned. I cannot bear to lose them or you."

"I will come back to you one day, and our girls will come back to you as well." He held her close, kissing her lips and the hair on her head. She wanted to believe her love but her heart held only dread.


	5. Catelyn II

Sunrise was breathtaking from the Eyrie. That morning the sky turned from dark blues and purples to gray-blue to pale orange and yellow with pink streaking the clouds until the rays of the sun broke over the horizon and the sky was aqua blue streaked with golden sunbeams.

Watching the sunrise all that Catelyn could think was that Tyrion was gone, justice was dead, and that her family in Riverrun was in danger from the Lannisters. Yet those thoughts were pushed aside by the troubled feeling that had risen in her over the last several weeks. She ignored it over and over again, yet now in the stillness of dawn when all she could do was think and wonder she began to count.

How long had it been, truly? She had paid no mind the first month or the second as she thought back over all the travel and stresses and fighting it was no wonder she had not noticed. Yet she ate less the more they traveled and yet her stomach grew and her breasts grew fuller. Nearly four months had passed since Eddard had left Winterfell. It had been longer since her moon's blood.

Had she not gone through this before with her five healthy beautiful children? Had she not prayed to the old gods and the new that she might bear her lord husband yet another child? Yet she had been too busy to notice the signs that there was another Stark growing inside her.

Now she couldn't stop noticing them. She looked at herself in a mirror and saw the way her curves had softened again, how her belly was beginning to become a soft shell. She wanted her husband to be there with her. She wanted them to return to Winterfell and let the rest of the world have its own troubles.

Yet even Winterfell held its troubles. Rosalyn Snow was of age to wed and Ned had said that the girl would be married off soon. How could they marry off a girl with violet eyes? How could they marry off a bastard that was a trueborn Princess?

Fear had not left her gut from the day Ned left and told her the truth of their birth. Fear for the lives of Ned and herself and all of their children. Was this truly the best time for another child to be born to the world? A world where Bran had been nearly murdered twice? Where war was inevitable and children were murdered by men calling themselves King?

She shivered in her robe but not from the air outside her window.

She decided not to tell Ned. It would be easy to send a raven, but she couldn't do it, not yet at least. It was so early and the child might not be born, she had miscarried once before. Yes, she would wait to send a raven lest the child never be born and bring more sorrow and stress to Ned.

For now, she would hide her growing child beneath her long flowing gowns and travel north again.

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_A/N:  
So this would be a good time to tell you that there are several canon changes as seen above :)  
Sadly people will still die, some canon though not all who died in canon will necessarily die here and past DWD it will be up to me to decide their fates for good or ill.  
Catelyn's pregnancy is inspired by her first or second chapter in GoT when she is in bed and praying that she could conceive another child, that just sorta stuck with me, especially since I already knew her eventual fate in the story._

Thank you to those who are reading, reviewing, favoriting, and following.


	6. Rosalyn II

Winterfell was too quiet. Robb and Theon had just left with the Northern army to free Lord Stark from the treachery of the Lannisters. How could they think Winterfell would not raise an army up to free their Lord? Robb would bring back their father and sisters, he had to win.

Lady Stark was gone as well. She had left shortly after Lord Stark and the girls, when an assassin tried to kill Bran. She went in order to bring news of Bran's would be assassin to Lord Stark. Last news of Lady Stark had been from the Eyrie, where she was holding Tyrion Lannister for the attempt on Bran's life. Tyrion couldn't be the one who hired the assassin, not when he had given them a way for Bran to ride a horse. Rosalyn said nothing though, there was no way the news would reach them fast enough to make a difference.

Now it was just Bran, acting as Lord of Winterfell in place of his father and brother, Rickon, and Rosalyn left of all the Starks. Even Summer and Shaggydog were lonely, they whimpered at the gates to Winterfell, missing their kin as much as their owners did. Sansa's pup Lady had been laid in the crypts with the Kings and Queens of the past, a fitting end for such a gentle creature.

Winterfell had been happy not so many months past. Now there was too much dread and fear and loneliness.

Rosalyn missed her sisters bickering. She missed helping them with their hair. She missed Arya play fighting with her brothers. She missed Sansa dreaming of a beautiful knight who would love her. She had adored being betrothed to a Prince. Now her sisters lives were in danger and Robb was their hope of rescue.

She missed Bran walking and running and climbing. She missed his easy smile and laugh. They were gone with the use of his legs.

She missed her father's gentle strength and the way he found time to be a Lord and yet gave each of his children attention. The way he listened to everyone, great or small, and his children most of all. Now he was in a dungeon for something he could not have done.

She missed Jon most of all. He wrote often enough but he was her twin, half of her being from the womb, and he was gone. Now with father's life in danger as well as the lives of her sisters, Rosalyn felt only dread and she wanted her brother back. She had never wanted him to leave to take the black. She had cried at him, at uncle Benjen, and at their father that Jon might stay. All three told her that Jon had to go. She had been angry with him up until the day he left, but that day she broke down and spent most of it with him. They talked and laughed and cried. He told her that he had given Arya a sword which their little sister named Needle. She got to see her sister with the sword shortly before she went south.

She tried to keep Bran and Rickon happy, yet that seemed to be increasingly difficult with each passing day. How could she keep Bran happy when he couldn't walk? How could she keep Rickon, a child of four years, happy when his mother and father and brothers and sisters were gone? Her family was at war. Robb leading his host to join the Tully's in their fight against the Lannisters in Riverrun. Father was imprisoned in King's Landing. Sansa and Arya were imprisoned there as well. How could Rosalyn possibly keep her young brothers happy when all three missed and feared for the safety of their family?

Rosalyn went to the tree to say her prayers shortly after her brother rode south. She never prayed to the new gods, only to the old as her father did. Osha, the strange wildling woman, was praying at weirwood when Rosalyn arrived.

The older woman looked at her when she arrived and bowed her head politely. "I will leave if you wish milady."

She laughed. "I'm no lady, just the Lord's bastard girl."

"Bastard?" The word was apparently foreign to the wilding from the look on her face.

"My father, Lord Eddard Stark, was not married to my mother when I was conceived and born. I know not who she is or was, but she was most certainly not Lady Catelyn Stark." She said it with some bitterness.

Osha snorted a laugh. "You southerners are all strange. In the north a man takes a woman from another village and she becomes his woman. There's no need of titles or ceremonies, everyone knows who is whose. You are the child of the same man as the little Lord, so you are a Lady, at least that's how I see it."

Rosalyn smiled. "Thank you. I was wondering... Bran told me that you him that the war should go north instead of south?"

She nodded solemnly. "The trees don't live in the south so the gods can't help there. Besides which the dangers are north not south even if your Lord father's life is in danger it's north you need to go or all our lives are in danger. But the army went south because you southerners don't understand the danger. You all think it's safe behind that wall of ice but it's not big enough to stop the evil that's coming."

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_Thank you to everyone who is reading/favoriting/following/commenting._


	7. Catelyn III

Your husband is dead.

It felt like a thousand knives cutting into her soul.

Had they not been winning? Wasn't Jaime Lannister their prisoner?

Did any of it matter now? Her love was dead. The father of the children she had borne and the one she carried. His head taken from him, and their daughters held captive by his murderers.

_You promised me that you would return Ned. How can I do this without you?_

Be strong for Robb. Be strong and get your girls back. Be strong for your sons who are alone in Winterfell, Bran who never even said goodbye to you or his father. Be strong for the child in your womb. The child who will never know its father. Be strong for revenge.

Robb had been quiet at the news. He was becoming so much like his father, holding his thoughts and emotions to himself. She wanted to hold him but didn't lest his bannermen think that their Lord was weak.

They were going to Riverrun. The home of her childhood. The place where Robb was born. Now he was returning as a Lord instead of a babe. Both times the country had been at war; both times she lost men she loved; both times she prayed for peace.

At least she would see her father and brother again soon and that would be a sweet relief even in the midst of despair.

A few days after learning about Ned's execution she told Robb that she was with child. He seemed unsure at first and then she moved her dress closer to her body and he could see the swell of her belly. He smiled later when the child was kicking and she let him feel his brother or sister move. This child was hope, she realized as they marched to Riverrun. This child was the future. She told Robb that they would announce her pregnancy once they were safely at Riverrun.

The following day they arrived at her childhood home. It was just as she remembered, though it no longer brought her joy. She was helped out of the boat and onto the docks, if her helper noticed her belly he said nothing. From there she went to see her father. He was lucid, but his health was failing. It broke her heart to see him as he was lying there in abed.

That night Robb held a council. Renly had declared himself King they had learned. Catelyn urged them to seek peace but her plea fell upon deaf ears, they wanted blood, not peace. Then as one the people declared Robb the King in the North. They learned that she carried Ned's last child and they cheered for the unborn prince or princess. They sent ravens to Winterfell declaring her sons to be princes, the boys who she missed with all her heart.

She also sent word separately to Rosalyn, charging the secret princess with the safety of her boys. She had almost told Robb that his bastard siblings were in truth his true born cousins and lawful heirs to the Iron Throne. She couldn't tell him now, not with his people declaring their independence. Perhaps Ned had been right; in order to keep the children of Lyanna and Rhaegar safe they could never tell a soul.

Time passed as her father's health declined and her child grew bigger and stronger within her. The river lords were leaving them one by one to return to their holdfasts, trying to harvest what remained of their crops. Robb decided to send Theon to Pyke to seek the help of the Iron Born, despite Catelyn's warning that it was a bad idea to have Theon sending the message.

She worried about her daughters in King's Landing and feared the worst for Arya, of whom no word had been mentioned since before Ned's imprisonment. The younger of her two daughters was nearly ten. The thoughts of her children made her cry. She longed to hold them each in her arms and keep them all safe. However her children were spread throughout the world now, and there was no way to keep them all with her.

It was about three moon cycles after Ned's death that she went into labor, it was a few days before Arya's tenth birthday. It was a dreary, rainy day. The kind of day where it rained steadily all day and night without ending. They called for a maester and a midwife to attend her. Her son Robb waited down the hall, anxious to hear news of his mother and her child.

The labor was short, lasting only a few hours. Robb's birth had been the most difficult and longest, Bran's the second most difficult. The other children had all come in their own times and ways with varying degrees of difficulty. This new child came with relative ease, crying loudly upon being pulled from the bed.

"A son my lady," the maester said as he cleaned the child up and then placed him in Catelyn's arms.

Catelyn smiled down at her new son, with tears brimming in her eyes as she looked at his face. "A Prince of Winterfell. Please, send Robb and my brother in."

They had cleaned her up and covered her again when her eldest son and brother came into the room, though her hair was a sweaty mess. "He has my eyes and your father's hair," she said softly, the tears slowly flowing down her cheeks. Ned... she missed Ned. She could see tears in Robb's eyes as well when he took his new born brother into his arms. Her brother Edmure kissed her on head and congratulated her.

"Have you thought of what to name him," Robb asked as he laid a finger in his brother's hand, marveling at the tiny fingers.

Catelyn met Robb's eyes. There could only be one name for her newborn son. "Eddard, he shall be named for his father."

Robb smiled and returned his brother to their mother. "A good name. I will tell my people that a new Prince of Winterfell has been born."

Catelyn was soon alone with her babe Eddard, who would never know his namesake. How strange it seemed to her that her first and last sons would be born at Riverrun where she had been born. Both born when the danger of war was upon them. Both born when their father was gone. However Ned Stark wouldn't return to hold this son. Her men always left.

Her youngest son became her best companion. She visited her father, and spoke with her brother and uncle, but Robb was often too busy to talk. About a month after Eddard was born Robb came to see her. He was quiet at first, unsure of what he would say.

"I need someone to treat with Renly. I need it to be you."

She looked at him incredulously. "Did you not see your infant brother? He is but a month old, and still needs me. Have you not seen your grandfather who is dying? He needs me too."

He sighed deeply. "I need you. I need you to be the one to treat with Renly because I have no one else who will know what to say to him. You I trust to do this."

"And will I bring my son with me?" Her voice was cold. She knew that he needed her but so did her babe.

"There is a woman among the cooks who recently gave birth, she can nurse my brother. I need you to do this."

She had never been more furious with her first born than at that moment. She couldn't believe that he would do this to her. They fought hard with him about it; however, in the end she went out of duty.

* * *

It had been three long, hard months when Catelyn finally held her infant son again. Her milk had dried up and he took some time to become accustomed her presence again. Holding him felt so good though, and she felt briefly whole again as she gently cradled the infant Eddard. She couldn't help but still feel angry at Robb still for stealing that time away from her.

The wet-nurse who was caring for Eddard was a young woman of common birth. Her name was Daisy; she had born a child around the time Eddard had been born but the child died. She was a gentle, simple girl, a baker's daughter and a baker's wife. Her husband had died fighting for Robb during the battle of the Whispering Wood. She was apologetic to Catelyn for her son being slow to warm up to her again. At first Cat resented her but in time Catelyn found that she didn't mind the girl's company. It was nice to have a companion, and the girl was very good with little Eddard.

Daisy and Brienne, who had run with her from Renly's camp, were Catelyn's constant companions, they and baby Eddard. Her only time away from the three was when she went to see her ailing father. She found herself wanting news of Robb and her brother Edmure were away warring. She found her solace with her babe.

Catelyn found that she could hardly pull herself away from the boy for any length of time. He was an easy tempered child but already strong willed and quiet like his father. By far Sansa and Bran had been the easiest of the babes, always smiling and laughing. Arya and Rickon were the strongest tempered and most difficult of the children, how true that was even as they grew. Sansa and Bran were her dreamers, Arya and Rickon her wild ones, and it seemed Robb and Eddard were her noble warriors, born and raised in battle.

She often wondered if Ned's bones had made it safely back to Winterfell yet. That was the hardest shock of returning to Riverrun, to see the silent sisters guarding the bones of her late husband. She wished the gods would return the dead. She needed Ned back in her arms. She wanted all of her children back, her husband alive and with her, and her Lord father healthy instead of dying.

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_Notes: Ned :( This chapter was once really short... now it's over twice the size and better._


	8. Rosalyn III

Rosalyn's heart was pounding in her chest. She kept trying to breathe deeply to calm herself but she kept feeling her throat constrict. She paced the room.

Theon had dismissed everyone from the hall back to their homes and rooms, except for her. He had sent her to the Lord's chambers. She had gone with no protest, save to whisper to Bran that he should escape if he could and not to worry about her. Rickon cried, but the poor child cried a lot anymore; he needed his mother and had spent far too long without her.

She had never spent much time in the Lord's chambers. Lady Catelyn spent much time there so she had always tried to find her father elsewhere in the keep. The room still smell of her father; she realized as she slumped on the bed, which brought tears to her eyes. She missed him so much and would never see him again.

She stood and walked to the windows and fireplace. Then she stood before Lady Catelyn's mirror. She had never spent much time looking at her reflection, typically her sisters had always helped with her hair and she never wore makeup. Plus, mirrors were expensive and this was one of the few in the castle.

She studied herself. Long dark brown hair, pale skin, strong cheekbones, relatively clear complexion, and round eyes in an oval face. Violet eyes, she realized, somewhat surprised. They had darkened from the pale color she remembered from the last time she had looked in a mirror years before.

"Who was my mother?" She whispered, wanting the answer she knew she could never receive. Her father's bones would give her no reply from where they rested in his tomb.

She jumped at sudden sounds outside the door. She feared it was Theon, but the voices and footsteps receded. She breathed again, leaning herself against the warm stone walls of the keep. She needed a plan.

She knew what Theon wanted. Really there was no other reason to send a woman to the bedroom you wanted to occupy. Had he not always made comments about her? How he liked the look of her. About her breasts when they had grown, saying how touchable they looked. How he would love to get her alone.

Now she was alone. He had conquered Winterfell without them being able to fight back. She hated him, now more than ever. She couldn't think of it though, couldn't think of anything but needing to keep her brothers safe.

_What does a bastard girl's maidenhood matter anyway?_ She couldn't help but wonder.

She had never been like Sansa who dreamed of a valiant knight who would rescue her._ A bastard doesn't marry up in the world_, had always been the opinion pushed at her. She had always outwardly smiled at Sansa's dreams but inwardly agreed with Arya that it was foolish to hope for a brave, gentle knight. Most men were monsters from all she had seen and heard. How she prayed for her sisters to be safe every night with the monsters that surrounded them.

At least Theon wouldn't be the first man she kissed. One of the blacksmith's boys had had that privilege. They had taken to liking one another for some months before they met in the glass garden one day and he kissed her. Sadly Jon had seen and he warned the boy off. It was the first time she and Jon had truly fought, but at least Jon never told father what they were arguing about when he saw their bickering. She was fairly sure that the boy had gone south with Robb's army.

Where were the men who were supposed to keep her safe? Now father was dead. Now Robb was warring in the south. Now Jon was north of the Wall. In that moment she hated them all.

A bastard girl is easy to make into a whore; hadn't she always known that? Yet somewhere in her mind she knew other words for it: courtesan, paramour, mistress? The thought of it all made her nauseous. In truth anything dealing with Theon made her feel ill at that moment.

But if she could convince him to make her more. If she could make him do what she wanted but have him still see it as what he wanted, they might all stay safe.

She made up her mind to please him, seeing no alternative. She looked through the dressers, vanities, and wardrobes. She found Lady Catelyn's makeup and a floor length silk robe. Lady Stark was half the country away and Rosalyn was defending the children. Makeup and a robe was a much smaller price than what Rosalyn was paying.

She made herself up and changed into the robe. Afterward she sat reading in the window until he came.

The sun was low in the sky and to her surprise he brought in a tray of food and wine with him, not held by a servant. He seemed shocked by her lack of attire but instead of leering he seemed timid. He put the tray on an end table and shifted awkwardly in place.

"I thought you might be hungry, it has been a long day." His voice trailed off as he took a seat.

_A long day betraying the people who raised you. _"How are my brothers?" She asked softly. She wanted to hurt him, to scream at him, but she kept her voice soft and sweet.

"They are fine. I am not going to hurt them. I am not doing any of this to hurt them." His voice was pleading gently for her to understand.

She glared at him. "You already killed people who were just defending their city from you. You who betrayed the people who raised you. And yet you claim to not be trying to hurt my brothers, my family, myself?"

"I am Prince of the Iron Islands, we take what we want and claim it as our own. Now please eat, drink, I know you must be hungry." He seemed angry at her statement, his words were sharp and defensive.

Grudgingly she sat down. She nibbled at some of the food and drank the wine. It was good, but in her anxiety held no taste for her even though she was hungry.

"What are you planning to do with us here," she asked as she sipped the sweet wine.

"I plan to be Prince of Winterfell as the Iron Born once ruled from Harrenhal."

She laughed. "Harrenhal is cursed and Winterfell has Stark blood in its very foundation. You really think the Starks won't take it back?"

He shrugged. He was more anxious than he was trying to let on. "Then Winterfell will burn and the sea will retreat 'til we take it back again."

She raised an eyebrow at his words. "And my brothers and I, what will you do with us?"

"I'll ransom them to Robb." He stopped short of saying his plan for her.

She took a large swallow of wine to keep herself calm, or at least to get herself drunk enough not to care anymore. The wine was strong and she already felt it warming her. "And me my Lord." He didn't seem to care that she called him Lord instead of "Prince" there were too many princes and kings, princesses and queens anymore for her to care. She took another long drink of the wine and could feel her head starting to grow fuzzy.

"I would have you be my claim to Winterfell." He spoke the words softly yet enthusiastically.

She stared at him blankly. "In what way? I gather you want to bed me or you wouldn't have sent me to the Lord's chambers. Making me your whore hardly makes me suitable to be your claim to Winterfell."

She stood up faced out the window again, shivering in anger as the wine flowed through her. He stood near her but behind her. "I plan to make you my Queen and have you at my side. I asked your father once if I would be allowed to pursue you, but he refused, saying that you were not right for me. I didn't know what to say to you after that."

She clenched her hands into fists in front of her. "You really expect me to believe that? You constantly teased me, constantly made crude comments at me, and slept with all the whores and many other young women in Winterfell and you expect me to believe that you wanted me to be your lady all that time?" She couldn't keep the venom out of her voice any longer and refused to look at him.

"I didn't know how else to show you what I thought of you. I only started bedding the girls in town after you were denied to me. But your father is dead and we could rule Winterfell." He sounded earnest and genuine, she turned to face him and could see that he even looked vulnerable.

"For how long? Until my brother returns and takes my head off as a traitor?"

"We could take a ship and conquer other towns and cities until I become King of the Iron Islands."

Theon had to be serious, that was the only way a man could think the words that just came out of his mouth were sensible in the slightest. He gently touched her face and leaned in to kiss her. She would swear to herself later that she only consented because she had drunk too much wine.

"You're crazy," she whispered against his lips, denying to herself that she enjoyed the taste of his kiss.

"Perhaps." He kissed her again, letting his hands travel the length of her sides. She shivered, telling herself that it was just the feel of the silk against her skin. Telling herself that she was only consenting to protect her brothers.

"Why are you here in Winterfell?" She whispered it in his ear as he pulled her closer.

"My father doesn't accept me. He thinks that I'm weak. I'm not weak." He kissed her neck. "Can we not talk about my father right now?"

She giggled. He had given her all the answers she needed. Now she knew how to play things her way.

They found themselves on the bed quite quickly. He was gentle with her, making sure she seemed comfortable with everything. She didn't feel anything, not the pain so many girls spoke of nor much pleasure either. She wondered if it was the wine or that he was small.

He whispered 'I love you' into her hair as he drifted to sleep later. She thought how she hated him through her sleepy drunken haze.

That night she dreamed...


	9. Dragonsight

Mother was a young woman, she was draped in the white lion-skin again. Her hair was the color of silver clouds and her eyes the color of amethysts. She was seated in a large airy room. The floor was green marble and there were silks hanging from the ceiling. There was a garden just outside and it was sunny and warm. Laying in the sun seemed like a tempting idea, that's where the kindred were. _I need mother to move me to them. I want to fly._

Suddenly there was another voice, not outside but inside. The voice was quiet and confused. It wanted to know who Mother was.

_Mother, Daenerys, Khaleesi.._.

The voice was a girl. _She can see with my eyes, hear my thoughts_. The girl took note of the kindred. The girl-voice thought they were brothers. Brother is the wrong word... kin... we are of a kind but not brothers or sisters. One was the color of warm cream and pure gold and the other was the color of coal and blood. _Dragons... we are dragons_...

Daenerys reached for and lifted them. _I want to fly_, it thought as its wings flapped strong but useless. '_How can I fly, I'm a girl_,' asked the voice. _I am__ a dragon; you are a dream._ Mother's hand was gentle as she stroked the scales on Rhaegal's head.

A man dressed as a knight with a bear on his chest came in, _Mormont, _they knew him and didn't. He was trustworthy with mother, unlike the new glittering man who was always around. The girl knew the Mormont somehow.

_Who are you girl? _She didn't know and soon she fell away.

Not much later Rosalyn woke breathing heavily. She found herself alone in the large bed that had been her father's. She was sore and confused. _I saw dragons... _She had to tell Bran.

She dressed quickly in the clothes she had worn the day before and brushed through her hair to make sure she was presentable. She left her hair loose to hide the marks on her neck that made her blush in shame. _Duty... it was duty..._

She found her brother in his room with the two Reeds. Meera, who was of an age with herself, and enjoyed talking with her about plants. She was talking animatedly with Bran Jojen, the green eyed-boy who was Bran's closest companion. He stared at her as if he knew somehow what she would say.

"What did you see?" The boy asked her, his muddy eyes searching her.

She couldn't keep the excitement from her voice. "Dragons, I saw dragons as I slept. I dreamt as a dragon."

Her brother's eyes grew round with curiosity. "How, there are no dragons?"

She sat down beside her little brother. "There was a girl, about my age, with silver hair and violet eyes. She had a knight from house Mormont with her and I could see two of the dragons: one white and gold the other black and red. I think that I was in a third. It's like your wolf dreams Bran."

Bran and Rosalyn looked at the Reed children, curious. "You're a warg too," the green-eyed boy said simply. "Not a wolf though, a dragon. They are coming to the North and their fire will consume. It will be a terrible war."

Bran and Meera looked frightened. Rosalyn was just confused. "How am I a dragon?"

The green eyes searched hers, with a hidden knowledge that made her shiver. "The truth is in your eyes." She didn't understand what he could mean.

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_Thanks for the favs, reviews, and follows!_


	10. Catelyn IV

Talisa… The girl's name was Talisa Maegyr. She was smart and beautiful and kind. It was not hard to see why her son had fallen in love with her. Oh but what a foolishness it may be for them all. Catelyn saw the trap her son had drawn for her, forgiving her for releasing Jamie and then telling her that he had broken his oath and married a girl who wasn't a Frey. How could she possibly show him anger at his decisions when he had forgiven her the foolish choices she had made?

As they walked along the halls of Riverrun she realized that she must now tell him her secrets, to help him see the error of his ways. Oh how like his father Robb was. Yet where Ned had chosen duty over young love, Robb had chosen lust and love over duty. How like Rhaegar and Lyanna they were, running for love and hoping the consequences would never reach them.

She realized that she had been too quiet when he started to look at her like he was still her young boy, lost and confused instead of a King and a man newly wed. "Is something wrong mother? I know that this wasn't wise…"

She sighed sadly and gently caressed her eldest son's cheek. "I am worried for you Robb. I am worried that we will lose this war. I am worried for you and Sansa and Eddard who are the last three children I have and only my babe can I keep safe. Arya may not be in King's Landing or even alive, we have heard no word of her since your father's imprisonment. Bran and Rickon are dead, slain by Theon whom you trusted. Sansa is held by Cersei and her son. I fear that you will die every time you go out to battle. Every day I hold secrets and fears so close to my heart that I fear it will break from the weight of them."

"You are so like your father that sometimes it frightens me. Now more than ever. When he married me it was not for love but duty. We learned to love as you would have with whichever Frey girl you chose."

He looked at his boots, he was blushing she realized. "I didn't want to father a bastard. I… I didn't want a child to have the life that Jon and Rosalyn did. I didn't expect her to betray me."

Rosalyn's betrayal, she realized as she released a long breath. "Let's go somewhere private, there is much that I need to tell you."

He nodded, emotional and confused. They went to her chambers where baby Eddard was sleeping. No one else entered with them, and they dismissed Eddard's nurse. Then Catelyn slumped tiredly onto a seat by the window and Robb sat by her. "I do not believe Rosalyn to be a traitor. She would never sit by while your brothers were killed and she swore to me in her letters that she would guard them with her life. She may have failed, or she may not have and they could still be alive. I will not let my heart feel hope for them but I believe her to be true to us."

Robb's cheeks were flushed with anger. "How can you believe her faithful when all the reports say that Theon has claimed her as his? That he plans to wed her and beds her nightly in our father's bed!"

"Hush Robb, your brother sleeps." She scolded gently. "What woman has a choice in whom she weds? How many women have a say when they are forced into a bed? How much less choice does a baseborn girl have? She is not stupid, if Theon wanted her in his bed she may well have agreed to avoid more pain for herself." He looked abashed and said nothing. "I sent promises to her that I would tell her of her mother when I returned to Winterfell. Your father told me of their birth the day he left for King's Landing. If nothing else that promise would keep her loyal."

She exhaled tiredly, the weight of death and years weighing heavily upon her. "Your father had a woman once out of love but wed me for duty when his brother died. She gave him a natural daughter named Rosalyn Sand. The girl died before he even knew she lived and the mother killed herself out of grief. It is for his natural daughter that Rosalyn Snow is named."

He cocked his head to the side, the confusion clearly written upon his face. "Who is my sister then?"

Catelyn breathed deep, she knew when she spoke the words there would be no way to take them back. "She and Jon are your cousins, trueborn and royal blooded."

She watched the wonder and shock flood his face. "Trueborn…"

She nodded. "Your father said that she and the Prince ran away together and wed. Your brother and sister remain ignorant of their heritage, though Rosalyn's eyes are pale violet."

He had gone pale. "They have a claim to the Iron Throne. We could have gathered all the armies of the south around them."

"The armies of the Riverlands and the North proclaimed you King. The armies of the South proclaimed for Joffrey, Renly, and Stannis. The Iron-Born proclaimed themselves free. From what I have heard the children of Aerys still live across the Narrow Sea and seek the Iron Throne as well. All your father wanted was the twins to be safe. A crown doesn't make a person safe, as you well know, it makes the one who wears it a target if they don't have enough support."

"We need to appease the Frey's." He muttered, knowing full well what she meant about needing support.

She nodded. "Maybe we could marry my brother Edmure to one of the Frey girls, then they would have inheritance to Riverrun."

"Will they consent?"

She smiled grimly. "You are King in the North, command your lords as you will and hope that Walder Frey is appeased with the offering."

He nodded and stood. "I will do that mother. I will also send some of my people north to reclaim Winterfell."

He was turning to go but she caught his hand and looked at him, holding his eyes with hers. "Do you understand why I told you about your father and about the true heritage of your brother and sister?"

He shook his head. He was smart but apparently her object lesson hadn't quite been detailed enough. "Your father loved a woman and let her go. The only people who died were the woman and her bastard child. Your aunt loved a prince instead of the man she was promised to wed and it tore a kingdom apart. I just worry about what consequences your actions will have."

His eyes and voice turned to ice but there was fear in them. "She is my wife now. Let the gods deal with us as they may."

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_So, I chose Talisa over Jeyne because I didn't feel like involving the Westerlings and that whole side plot... Talisa on the other hand opens up more... possibilities..._

_Thanks for the favs, reviews, and follows!_

Also, we are finally getting to places where there are more than two POV characters... soon!


	11. Sansa

"Lady Sansa," she heard his voice call. She was hiding, as usual, in the godswood. She supposed that she should be polite and respond to Lord Tyrion. He was hideous and a Lannister, why did he have to bother her? She just wanted to be alone. She prayed every day for home, but she was a prisoner still. She had heard that Lord Stannis was sending a fleet to attack King's Landing soon, so now she prayed for Lord Stannis's victory.

Lord Tyrion called her name again, so she stood up and walked up the path. "My Lord Tyrion." She replied softly when she saw him.

"How fare you this day?"

"I am well my Lord, how are you?" She didn't care how he was, even though he was always kind to her, however this small talk was unusual.

He smiled lightly. "Busy as always, preparing for Lord Stannis's imminent attack. I also have news of your family. Some good and some bad."

"Bad for whom?" The only good news would be Joffrey's head on a spike, but she knew he was still alive. She also knew better than to say that thought aloud.

He laughed at that even though she remained serious, she had to be serious and quiet to not be hit. He ignored the question and just continued. "Here, please take a seat." He said, indicating a bench nearby. She complied with his request, and then he resumed. "It seems that your father gave your Lady mother a gift when they parted and some months ago she gave birth to a son at Riverrun."

The sadness and happiness shown on her face at the same time yet she kept herself calm and polite. _A baby brother, the gods are good. I hope mother is still well. I hope he is healthy. I want to go home. I want my family back._ How she longed for her family every day, how she prayed for them all to be safe and for the Lannisters to die. "Thank you for telling me. Is there anything else?"

Then he became solemn again and sighed. "Yes, it seems that the Iron Islanders have decided to attack the North. The last report I received was that Winterfell captured by the Iron Born."

She clasped her hands behind her back to keep him from seeing them shake. _No, not my home, not by brothers. _ "My brothers?" She was so afraid of the answer.

He shook his head. "They are reported as having been slain by Theon Greyjoy. I am sorry for your losses Lady Sansa."

She nodded but couldn't speak, how could she when all she loved was gone or dead? A new brother, but two dead brothers, two dead sisters and a dead father. She assumed her half-sister was dead at least. Home was gone, her family gone, her hopes swiftly fading.

Tyrion left her with a polite bow a few moments later. She returned to her prayers. She prayed long that day, for her mother and living brothers, for Arya that she might still live and be safe. She even prayed for Jon to be safe, the brother whom she had never bothered to get to know. Most of all though, she prayed for death, the deaths of those who wronged herself and her family.

Her prayers were almost a list. People to live and be healthy and strong, and people to die. She prayed for life at both the sept and the godswood. She prayed to the Father for justice for her father's murder. She prayed to the Mother for health of herself and her family. She prayed to the Maiden for protection. She prayed to the Warrior that Robb would win his battles, and now she prayed for Lord Stannis as well. She prayed to the Smith that Robb's weapons would stay strong. She prayed to the Crone for wisdom, for herself and her family. She dared not pray to the Stranger in the sept, for fear that people may report on her to Queen Cersei, or worse yet, to Joffrey. Only in the godswood did she pray for death.

_Old gods, those who my father prayed to, please bring my father justice. Please bring to justice those who killed my brothers Bran and Rickon, and my half-sister Rosalyn. At least, I assume she is dead too. End the lives of those who work against the North, against my family who have prayed to you since the world was young: King Joffrey, Queen Cersei, Ser Ilyn, Ser Meryn, Ser Boros, Ser Mandon, Ser Jamie, Lord Tywin, Theon Greyjoy. I thank you that Ser Preston has met his end. Though I love him not, protect Ser Arys as he guards Princess Myrcella. I don't know what to ask for Lord Tyrion, but may he come to whatever end you should choose. Protect my brothers Robb and the new baby. Protect my mother and keep her safe, though she does not pray to you. If my sister Arya lives, keep her safe. Keep me safe as well. May Stannis take the capital away from the Lannisters and put their heads on spikes._

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_Super short chapter... but this is really the only change for Sansa at the moment. I am contemplating expanding earlier chapters... we'll see... (earlier chapters, and this one, have now been expanded.)_

_Thanks for the favs, reviews, and follows!_


	12. Rosalyn IV

She reflected upon her failures as Winterfell burned. She was hiding high in the heart tree and could hear the screams from Winterfell's people throughout the city. _I couldn't save the city. I couldn't save my people. I couldn't help anyone._

At least she had succeeded in keeping her brothers safe as she had sworn to do. They had come up with the ingenious plan on hiding the boys, the Reeds, Hodor, and Osha in the crypts. Rosalyn would remain as Theon's lady and proclaim her innocence in the escape and fear for the safety of her brothers.

It went well for a time, he still planned to make her his Queen. He doubted her innocence in the escape, but his doubts would go away when he saw her in bed. Then Reek got into Theon's head. Reek, who convinced Theon that he should kill boys in the stead of Bran and Rickon. Reek, who killed the farmer's boys and called them her brothers. Even Theon's sister, when she arrived from Deepwood Motte, thought Theon was being foolish. She told him to leave Winterfell before he was killed as a matter of revenge. By that time however, he had stopped listening to everyone but Reek.

So much for the love he had proclaimed for her. It was ambition he loved. He had used her instead of how she planned to use him. She told herself that she was still better off for having consented to his beddings, it was better than rape. She refused to let him touch her after he had the boys killed. To her relief, he consented.

She knew in her heart that she was only half right about Theon. He did love her, she knew that in her head though her heart had not softened much to him. He had brought her moon tea every morning so that she wouldn't be with child before he married her. He had learned to make her smile in pleasure and in return he smiled back. She knew that he was lost and lonely just as she was but he listened to men over women as was usual for men. In the end Reek was more cunning than she was and he had worked his way into Theon's head where she had only captured his heart.

In the end not only had she betrayed Theon, but Reek had as well. Oh she had pleaded with him to run and escape, but she betrayed him by protecting her brothers. It was Reek who ended the betrayals by capturing him, Reek who was the Bastard of Bolton, the one who had set fire to Winterfell. That was what the Maester had told her when she found him dying beneath the tree.

It was there, under the tree, that she was reunited with her brothers. Rickon ran into her arms and she lifted him to her hip and held him tightly. She gently gave a squeeze to Bran's arm as well. Meera and Osha left and returned not much later with food for the whole group and a blade for Rosalyn to carry. Maester Luwin warned that the boys should be split up for their safety. He then asked Osha for a mercy. Bran seemed suspicious of what "a mercy" was but said nothing as all but Osha left the Maester. It was but a few moments later that she rejoined the group, cleaning her blade subtly.

Jojen and Meera looked to Bran, Osha and Bran looked to Rosalyn, Rickon was still snuggled into Rosalyn's shoulder and Hodor was looking around at the walls sadly saying "Hodor". Rosalyn swallowed thickly, wiping away the tears that had begun falling from her eyes. She was the ward of the two boys now but to keep them safe she had to make hard decisions, and not cry like a child.

"Bran," she began. "Your mother commanded me to be the guardian of you and Rickon. Until now I have done the best that I can, but now I need to follow Maester Luwin's suggestion because that seems the best wisdom right now. Osha, take Rickon north and west to Bear Island. Avoid Deepwood Motte as it is held by Asha Greyjoy and though this betrayal was done to the Greyjoy's and us by the Boltons I would trust you with neither though more with the Ironborn. I feel the Mormont's will still be loyal to house Stark, but I do not want your presence known. Be a mother and son, blend in and let the world think you are no one."

She looked little Rickon in the eyes, sad child eyes that had seen more pain than the sum of his years were made to endure. "Be brave my little wolf, be strong and brave. Behave for Osha, and never tell a soul that you are a Stark. Remember always that you are loved."

She slowly set the boy down and Osha took his hand firmly.

"We will go with Bran," Jojen announced. Somehow she had known that would be their choice. They also knew that Hodor would be the one to carry Bran, there was no question or choice in that matter.

"Where will you go Rosa?" Bran asked softly.

"North, I must reach Jon. The last word he sent to me was that he was going ranging beyond the Wall, but he may yet have returned by the time we reach the Wall. He will keep us safe." She wished there was a way to send word south to Robb, to warn him about the Bolton's betrayal, but the ravens were dead. There was no safe place now, no way to get word south.

Jojen nodded and spoke softly, "The three-eyed crow is in the North too."

So it was decided. A few minutes later Osha herded Rickon toward one gate while Rosalyn and Bran's group walked out another. They just had to hope and pray that they would all be safe.

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_A/N: The previous chapters, with one exception, have all been expanded and revised, so I would encourage people who have been following the story to reread the chapters. Thanks to everyone!_


	13. Meera

They liked to tell stories as they walked North. Meera especially enjoyed teasing Bran when he learned something new. She was still surprised that he didn't know about the Knight of the Laughing Tree. Really, not even she knew who the knight was, she had always assumed that it was her father. Rosalyn had laughed and said that she could imagine Arya becoming a mystery knight, so she was betting on the wolf-maid of the tale being the knight. She said that the wolf-maid was clearly Lyanna Stark and Arya was Lyanna come again. Meera laughed at Bran's surprise that Rosalyn was right on who the wolf siblings were. Bran then wondered whom the woman that their father had danced with had been. Meera said that the girl was named Ashara Dayne, the sister of Arthur Dayne who died fighting their fathers at the Tower of Joy. The half-siblings mulled over the information but the conversation on the topic died out after a few hours.

It was a long, hard journey North. Their bodies ached; their clothes wore thin, and their food was in short supply. Meera hunted and fished wherever she could find anything. Rosalyn's study of plants helped in the finding of roots to eat. The roots were often bitter, and they cooked them until the roots were soft and forced themselves to eat the broth it made. The stories kept their spirits up, especially when food was in short supply.

Meera loved to listen to the three seers.

Her brother whom she worried about. He never told her much of what he saw, though usually it was bad. She could tell by the distant look in his eyes when he was thinking about something that he had seen. She wondered about what he saw, what he knew and would not speak. He would keep them going North, saying that the three-eyed crow was waiting for them.

Bran, the sweet prince with a broken body, the boy who could only run in his wolf. She could not blame him for wanting to remain in Summer, running free and hunting game. She wondered if the three-eyed crow could really make him fly. If the crow could do that, could he make Bran walk again? She could see his unspoken jealousy of his sister being able to dream as a dragon, though it was lessening with time. He would speak of Summer, the longing to run seeping into his words. He would talk at length with Jojen about being a warg and the three-eyed crow.

Rosalyn, the girl who kept her heart's desires buried deep within. She seemed haunted by her experiences in Winterfell but never spoke of them. She never once mentioned Theon Greyjoy; barely spoke of Ramsey Snow and that had only been in the first few days after they left Winterfell. However she would tell them her dragon dreams and about the girl with silver-hair and violet eyes whom the dragons called mother. Her dragon dreams were different than Bran's wolf dreams. Bran always spoke as if he became Summer, controlling his movements and actions. Rosalyn spoke about the dragon as if she were only seeing through its eyes and hearing its thoughts. She told them about the dragons learning to roast their own food. About the city of red stone where the dragons set men on fire while people cheered for freedom. The dreams from that day on varied between hopeful, saddening, or terrifying. The dragons would fly and see the vastness of the army that followed their mother. They watched the yellow city fall to their mother as the Red city had, it was in the yellow city where the dragons ate human flesh the same as any other flesh. From the yellow city the army of Daenerys marched again until they reached a multi-colored city of walled pyramids.

The dream of the pyramid city was the night before they reached Queenscrown. It was so beautiful to look out over the hills and mountains, fields and forests, the way to the Wall would be much easier from then on. It was also nice to be indoors again, especially when the rain started lashing down from the sky. Then the storm picked up as the night went on and woke them all. Hodor had picked up his sword and was calling out in his fright. It took Bran doing… something… to calm the giant boy down, and Meera took away his sword. Bran said he didn't know what happened, but Meera could have sworn that he had warged into Hodor. The moment passed, and then, to make sure the strangers in the cabin would leave, Bran warged into Summer to chase them off.

It didn't work. While Summer had killed some of the wildlings, he had been injured as well. Bran left his wolf's body with a soft cry of pain. Then he looked straight to Rosalyn. "They hurt Summer, but I think he ran off after. Jon was there Rosa. I helped him escape, he galloped off on a horse. But I... I think he was injured."

There were swift tears upon Rosalyn's cheeks, but she said no words, choosing instead to hug her brother close. Meera could only imagine the pain of loss that they had gone through these past months. To be so close again to a brother must be a worse torture. They all spent the rest of the night huddled close, whispering softly to one another and waiting. At dawn the wildlings were no closer to leaving than they had been at night. It wasn't until the afternoon that they left, taking whatever they could scavenge with them. Later that afternoon Summer came limping to them. He had an arrow in his leg that Meera removed and tended with some of the plants that were growing around the tower. They were about to set out themselves, when they noticed a young wildling woman with bright red hair seated in the ruins of the Inn.

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_A/N: Thanks to everyone for reviews follows! I am working on a chapter that will be posted as chapter two, pushing up all the chapters by one. It is about Ned and Ashara and Robert's Rebellion. It will be done soonish._


	14. Ygritte

The tiredness started before the Wall. The nausea started a day or so after the climb down. If Jon noticed he said nothing. He seemed too preoccupied with planning to escape that he didn't notice how her mood changed and her appetite as well. He didn't tell her that he was planning to return to the other crows; he didn't have to, she knew him. Ygritte told him he knew nothing, quite often really, not even that his woman was gonna have his kid. The others in the group started to notice, but she silenced the chatter by threatening them with her knife.

The storm was coming when they came to the ruined town. A watchtower, Jon called the tower in the middle of the lake, she had thought it a castle. They fought then, about how wrong he was concerning freedom and stealing. She was always right in their fights, he knew nothing. Yet his smile made her blood run hot and she loved him more than the sun and sky.

When they found the man in the ruins, she knew there would be trouble. However they left the man to the rest of the group while she and Jon escaped for a few wonderful moments to the lake. He knew the tower in the center, he told her that a queen had lived there once, for a day. She wondered what it would be like to be a queen, living in a castle with fancy clothes and food, telling people what to do all the time. Jon said that the queen who had been to that tower rode a dragon. She wondered what it would be like to see a dragon, the beasts were legends, but had not been seen in many lifetimes. Dragons could destroy the hated wall and get the free folk safely away from the Others, she was sure of that.

He was going to tell her more when they were called back to the group standing above the old man. They wanted Jon to kill him. She was sure that Jon would do it, he had to kill the man, to prove his loyalty. He was loyal; he had to be loyal. She was wrong though, she had to kill the man for him. She cursed his crow blood. Then things changed swiftly. Lightning struck, a wolf, huge and grey attacked and Jon ran off. She followed him and put an arrow in his leg as he rode away on the horse. _How could he do this? Why?_

Ygritte left the group fighting off the direwolf and hid on the opposite side of the tower. She didn't trust that the other free folk wouldn't try to kill her for being his spear wife and carrying his child. Tears came to her eyes unbidden as she crawled beneath a bush. She hadn't even told him she was carrying his child, maybe he would have stayed if he had known. She felt the bile rise in her throat again and spat it out. She was shaking, terrified. She had never felt fear before, not like this anyway. She realized that it was fear for the child within her. _He left me. Why did he leave me? Why did I trust a crow?_

She drifted off uneasily in her shelter. In the morning, she waited until the free folk left to come out of hiding. She warily looked for the direwolf. A direwolf was death, she knew. However she saw no sign of the beast and went to where the old man lay dead. She was hungry and in her haste to hide had neglected to take food for herself. She picked up and ate some of the wormy apples which lay all around and rested in a dry corner of the inn. She threw the apples up within the hour. She wondered if she could hold anything down anymore. This child never seemed happy with her choices in food and made her tired. _How can I fight if this babe won't let me do anything?_

As she sat in the ruined building she saw people leaving the tower. They walked in a strange pattern across the water and made it to land again without falling in. A strange group they were, a large man with a boy strapped to his back. A smallish boy with green clothes. Two brown-haired girls, one tall and the other short, both in trousers and carrying swords. Last of all the large direwolf.

A boy with a direwolf... She thought of Jon and Ghost. She remembered him talking about his brothers and sisters. Two sisters who went south with their father, held captive when men in the south chained his father. A brother who went to war to defend their father, but he failed and their father lost his head. Then that brother crowned himself king. In the north there were two young brothers, one of whom was crippled. Most important to Jon was a twin sister who shared their father's hair. Each sibling had a wolf except for his twin. The crippled brother with a direwolf and his twin sister without a wolf, she couldn't help but think of them.

The strangers from the tower saw Ygritte and stood in front of the ruined inn. The girls stood to the front, pulling their swords from their sheaths. Ygritte could see it in the face of the taller girl; she had to be Jon's twin. She ran through their names in her head: Brandon, Arya, Sansa, Robb, Rickon, Rosalyn. She couldn't remember the order though, Rosalyn was the twin; he had mentioned her the most other than the little tomboy Arya. Rickon was the cripple. Or was it Robb? No, it was Bran, like Brandon the builder and the hundred other Brandons throughout the long history of the Starks.

"Rosalyn and Bran?" She ventured the words as she stood before them. The two she suspected as being Jon's brother and sister looked to one another. She pushed further, knowing that her suspicion was correct. "Are you Jon's brother and sister? Jon Snow, of Winterfell?"

The girl stepped forward again. She was holding her blade protectively, though by her grip she clearly didn't know how to use the weapon. "I am Jon's twin Rosalyn. Who are you? Why did you stay behind?"

"I'm Ygritte. I travelled with Jon from beyond the Wall." She tried to hold back the bitterness, but she was furious at him for leaving her and the words just all tumbled out. "He was a spy for the bloody crows. He ran off back to his castle and his crows. They would have killed me for being his woman. They know I'm carrying his babe, even if he doesn't. That's reason enough to kill me." She didn't see the reactions of Bran and Rosalyn at first. She didn't realize how shocked their expressions were; how wide their eyes were.

Rosalyn sheathed her sword and stepped closer to Ygritte. Jon's twin's face shone with delight and hope. "You are pregnant? With my brother's child?"

"Aye." It was the first time that Ygritte had truly admitted that fact out loud. The threats she made against the people who teased her weren't the same as just stating the fact. Yet here, with Jon's kin she could safely say the truth. "Why are you out here? Jon always said that Winterfell was a great castle."

They Stark children looked to their companions and it was Bran that spoke. "Winterfell was sacked and burned. We have to go north, for safety. Rosalyn is planning to seek out Jon." Ygritte mulled over what the boy wasn't saying. He wasn't planning to seek out Jon that was the clear message he said without words. Why she wondered; what could a boy so young be trying to do on his own in the North?

"It won't be safe. The free folk are going to attack Castle Black and take down the Wall." She informed them simply.

"They won't succeed." It was the boy dressed in green who said that. Ygritte regarded him coolly.

"What do you know?" Ygritte challenged.

"I am a greenseer. I have seen many things, many faces, many times, many places. The Wildlings will not take down the Wall." Jojen said softly.

Ygritte glared at him but said nothing. She looked again the Jon's brother and sister. "If you are goin' to Jon I'm comin' with you."

She watched them plan silently amongst one another before Bran spoke up again. "You may come with us if that is your wish, but you must swear that you will do us no harm."

She laughed lightly. "I swear it. I would never harm Jon's kin, he spoke kindly about all of you. Besides which, I'm carryin' his child; makes you kin."

She was favored by smiles from Jon's brother and sister while the other two regarded her cautiously. So it was that Ygritte followed Bran and Rosalyn, Jojen, Meera, and Hodor, along with Summer on their way north. She wouldn't hurt Jon's kin, but she made no promise that she wouldn't hurt Jon when she saw him again. He had left her and that was a hurt that she was not sure if she could ever forgive.

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_A/N: Thanks to everyone for reviews and follows! I am working on a chapter that will be posted as chapter two, pushing up all the chapters by one. It is about Ned and Ashara and Robert's Rebellion. It will be done soonish. I am going to be re-working chapters (again), and improving the future chapters, plus solidifying the timeline for the future chapters. So I will be doing that the next couple weeks, leaving updates to wait until everything is improved and polished and updated._


	15. The King in the North

_Fair Warning- Red Wedding, though modified so you need to read it to know what's going to happen with these characters. Thank you to everyone who is following, favoriting, and commenting on this story. I would love more comments to know what everyone thinks, but the support so far has still be wonderful! Also, Sansa I, has been expanded._

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King Robb found his mother in a large sitting room which overlooked the confluence of the Tumblestone and Red Fork rivers. His baby brother Eddard was trying his hardest to walk by pulling himself along the couches. His mother and Eddard's nurse Daisy were laughing and encouraging the boy. Robb loved to hold his little brother, and was overjoyed that soon he would have his own child with his wife and queen, Talisa. Though the new babes didn't ease the losses they had felt.

He missed his father terribly. His father was the rock of their family. He was wise and sure, and would have known the wisest course of action to take. He hated Theon passionately, a person whom he had once seen as a brother. Theon, who had taken Robb's presumed half-sister into Lord Eddard Stark's bed and murdered Bran and Rickon. He could still remember the smiles of his little brothers. He worried about his sisters. Sansa was now married to Tyrion Lannister, putting her beyond his reach unless the Imp was killed. What had happened to Arya, and why did no one speak of her? Had Rosalyn been slain in Winterfell? Was she guilty or innocent of the crimes she was accused of committing? His mother seemed convinced that Rosalyn was innocent, but still the doubts lingered. Rosalyn wasn't even his sister but his cousin. She and Jon should have the Iron Throne by right of blood. He was sorely tempted some days to try giving Jon a crown. That wasn't the wisest course though, his mother and father were right about that. He wanted this war to be over, to take his people home, and to keep what remained of his family safe. A crown can't make you safe.

Daisy bowed low to the ground when she saw him. "Your grace."

His mother bowed her head politely and smiled at him. "Robb, how are you today?"

He smiled at her. She didn't seem angry at him finally. He still felt guilty for sending her away to treat with Renly so soon after Eddard was born. "I am well mother. I had hoped to speak with you alone."

She nodded. "Daisy, would you mind leaving us for a while?"

The girl nodded politely. "Of course milady, I will be in the kitchens." With that, the girl was gone.

When she left, Robb sat on one of the couches in front of his mother. Little Eddard crawled to him, and Robb tossed his brother in the air before holding him close and kissing him on the cheek. "I will be sending you away again soon." He said, a hint of sadness in his voice.

"Where?" His mother's voice had gone cold he realized, and he cringed internally. He hated the rift that had come between them.

"To Greywater Watch, I have a plan to take Moat Cailin, and will be sending you with the Mormont's, Jason Mallister, and Galbart Glover. Father trusted Howland Reed, and I will trust Lord Reed with you and my baby brother. I will be telling them more of this plan after we set out next week for the Twins." He breathed deeply, worried that she wouldn't like his plan. To his relief, she smiled.

"You have been quite busy planning haven't you?" He nodded, and set his squirming brother down. "Will I be taking my infant son to meet the Frey's? What of Queen Talisa?"

Her question was simple, but she was asking something deeper without words. "Your party will be sent off before we ever reach the Twins, I will not endanger your life or my wife's. Talisa is heading to Volantis tonight with a hundred of my truest men. She and I have discussed this at length, though she was not happy with me sending her away. She will be safer. I am heeding your advice mother and not fully trusting the Frey's. I will not have either of you at your brother's wedding."

"The Frey's will see it as another insult if I am not at the wedding. And Volantis? You send your wife across the world where it will take months for news of home to reach you? I urged caution, but this seems as though you believe everything to be lost?" He could hear the worry in his mother's voice.

He shook his head. "She will go to Volantis until our child is born. Then she will return to me once she has recovered from the birth. This may be the last time that Talisa's family sees her and only time when they may see her child. As for the Frey's, I know that you will not be parted from my brother again, and I would never part you again. I will not have my heir apparent anywhere other than a place that he is protected. Greywater Watch from what I have heard is nearly impossible to find. If you and he are there, no harm will come to you."

She stood, walked to him, and kissed his head. "I am proud of you."

He smiled up at her. "There is more. I intend for you and Eddard to continue north to Bear Island with the Mormonts. You will be isolated there, and therefore safer. I want as few people to know about this plan as possible. Only you, myself, and Talisa know these things." He breathed deeply then. There was one more thing to tell her. "If... If anything should happen to me, I have set my line of succession in writing and it will go with you. My child with Talisa should come first, then Eddard. If both children should die I want Jon to become my heir."

Her eyes widened, and she started to protest, but he cut her off. "I know that you told me the truth of his parentage, which does make him a legitimate heir. But... If... If I die, tell Jon the truth. If he doesn't want a throne then no one can force him to take it. I know that father wanted Jon and Rosalyn to be safely ignorant of their parentage, but he needs to know the truth. If I am dead and he wants to be king, then raise the banners of the North around him and give the south all the fury of the Starks and of Jon's father. Give them fire and blood."

He was surprised by the passion in his own voice. To his greater surprise, his mother agreed.

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Robb's wife and the child within her were safe. His mother and baby brother Eddard were safe. He hated parting with both women and his brother. He had kissed his wife passionately and held her close for nearly an hour when it was her time to depart. He had sent her to Saltpans with a hundred loyal men. There was a Volantene ship waiting there for her. His wife and their child would be safe in her homeland, they were both sure of that. She was the granddaughter of a Triarch, and a member of one of the oldest and richest families in Volantis. No one could harm his wife and child there. Talisa had left Riverrun two days before the main army departed for the Twins.

His mother and her men had left the main army heading to Greywater Watch a week before he reached the Twins. They left in the dark of the night so that no one noticed their departure until morning. He told the men that little Eddard wasn't feeling well so Lady Catelyn was taking him back to Riverrun. The story seemed to go over well enough.

He hoped for the best from Lord Frey, though his mother had left him with doubt. She had given him many warnings and cautions. He knew she was afraid for him, they had lost so many family members that it was difficult to bear. They needed the Frey's back to avenge his father and keep the North free. He couldn't stop until his father's murder by the Lannisters was avenged. Once the war in the south was won, they would avenge themselves against the Ironborn. All they needed was the Freys. He could feel victory and retribution the closer they were to the Twins.

He missed his wife already. Her fire and passion focused him and directed him. She spoke honestly and openly with him about every matter. Her beauty enraptured him. He prayed for her safety at sea, and for the safety of his mother and brother. This was for them, for their future.

They were greeted well when they reached the Twins, though somewhat sullenly. There was the awkwardness of apologizing to the Frey girls for not choosing one of them to marry. He also apologized for the absence of his wife and mother, claiming that he had left them at Riverrun as they were not feeling well. A lie, but one his mother had bade him make. His mother did not trust Lord Frey, and he respected her wishes.

His uncle seemed delighted with Roslin Frey. She was a lovely young girl, the same age as Robb. There was something off about her though, she seemed anxious and upset. Perhaps it was just anxiousness at being married off, especially to a man so much older.

The mood of the wedding was festive and cheerful. His uncle and Roslin Frey said their vows, and feasted. The mood changed later, after the bedding. A few moments after his uncle was gone the music altered. It was no wedding song they played, no joyful tune on their instruments. It was the 'Rains of Castamere', the song of his enemies, the song of the Lannisters.

He felt the arrows strike when he stood in anger. Each quarrel felt like a piercing flame. He stumbled but pulled himself up again. His people were fighting, dying. He heard Grey Wind's howls. _Kill them Grey. _ He thought of his pregnant wife, safe. He thought of his mother, safe. His brothers Eddard and Jon, safe. _I'm sorry Sansa, sorry that I couldn't save you. I'm sorry mother that I didn't listen to your warnings. I'm sorry Talisa, so, so sorry. I will be with father, Bran, Rickon, Rosalyn, and Arya soon. Give them fire and blood Jon, for me. _He felt regret, rage, the chasm of despair and failure. He heard a man say "Jamie Lannister sends his regards" and for a brief moment felt fire pierce through his body. Then the darkness took him, and it strangely felt like being welcomed back into his father's embrace.


	16. Tyrion

_This isn't going to be easy,_ Tyrion thought as he walked back to the rooms he shared with his young bride. Why did he always have to bring the poor girl bad news? At least he could give her some hope with this tragedy, as he had when he told her about Winterfell. His father had spoken of the murder of his wife's brother and the need to get her pregnant in the same conversation as if both were casual matters. As if murderous betrayal and taking advantage of a child were both ok.

Tyrion wished that they could get out of the city and live elsewhere, anywhere that would make her smile. _But why would she smile when her family has been murdered and she was forced to marry the enemy, and a hideous imp like me at that._ Wishes meant little when they were compelled to stay until the royal wedding. _Soon, it will be over soon and we can leave this den of horrors, my father, sister, and nephew behind us_.

He found her in their sitting room, reading on a window seat overlooking the sea cliffs. She was such a lovely young girl, and her life was far too filled with pain. He had seen tales of knights and fair maidens among her books, but she never touched them. He could tell that the books had been well read at one time, probably when she still believed there was good in the heart of everyone. A girl's dream that Cersei and Joffrey had ripped away from her. Now when she read it would be histories and tales of Westeros, Valyria, Essos, and Sothoryos. They were his books, though he did not mind her reading them at all. He hoped that one day it would give them something common to discuss. When she was not reading, more often than not, Lady Sansa could be found in the sept or the godswood. What she was praying for Tyrion feared to guess. _The death of every Lannister no doubt. Well now she can add the Freys and Boltons to that list._

He cleared his throat softly and she turned to face him. She didn't quite have her usual mask on, not yet anyway. "My lady, I fear that I have some bad tidings to bring you."

He noticed how she tensed at his words and her face becoming an impenetrable wall. He didn't want to tell her, but he also didn't want her to hear the news from someone else. "There is no easy way to say this... Your brother Robb was killed at the Twins. The Freys, acting with the Boltons and my Lord father, conspired together that at the wedding of your uncle Edmure to Roslin Frey, Robb and his men would be put to the sword. Your uncle still lives, but is held as a prisoner."

She stared at him blankly. He wasn't sure what was going on inside her mind, but he wished that he could help her. "What of my mother?" She asked softly, as though her brother's murder was as common a topic as the weather.

At that Tyrion smiled, he couldn't help it really. His father had been furious at the news, though he had hidden it quite well. The Lions had not yet captured all of the wolves, and purely out of spite toward his father the notion that Lady Catelyn had escaped amused Tyrion greatly. "Your mother, Lady Catelyn, and her son Eddard were not at the wedding, nor are they at Riverrun. Your brother, it seems, had things quite well planned out. From what I have learned, when Robb and his men set out from Riverrun he sent his wife with some men Saltpans to take a ship from there, presumably to her home in the Free Cities. Just before reaching the Twins, another party left those accompanying your brother Robb. That group included your mother and baby brother. No one knows where they went, though I fear my father will send people to search for them."

_My father sent as many men as he could to seek out your mother, but that you do not need to hear sweetling. _He noticed the slight smile upon her lips, even through her mask. "My lady, I hope that you can find comfort in knowing that your mother and youngest brother are alive. I know that you have faced more hardships from my family than any person should endure. Your mother, she is one of the strongest and most stubborn people I have ever met. She will refuse to die so long as one of her children lives. You may not believe me, but I pray for her safety."

He did pray for her safety, as strange as it seemed. Catelyn Stark had taken him prisoner and thrown into a farce of a trial for crimes that he didn't commit, but she had done it all for her children. Now that he was married to one of Lady Catelyn's children and he couldn't help but wish her well, if only for Sansa's sake.

She nodded politely. "I am grateful to you for bringing this news to me. I think I will visit the godswood now if you will excuse me."

"Of course my lady. I understand wanting to be alone right now."

She gave a polite curtsey and swept out the door. He wished that he could say more, but he knew that he should leave her alone to grieve. She always wore her mask so well that sometimes he wondered if she was even listening, but he was beginning to realize that she heard everything but chose to never respond. He supposed that it made sense, responding before she married Tyrion would always get her beaten.

He sighed deeply. He needed to find Shae and let her help him relieve his tensions. It had been too long since he had been with Shae. He also needed her to rub out the knots in his legs and neck, being Master of Coin and being around his father had succeeded in making his usual knots worse.

Later that day, after being at work he returned to his rooms. He could hear Sansa's sobs through the door of their rooms. He wished that he could comfort her, to hold her as she cried. However, knew that he was the last person that she wanted. He waited until the rooms were quiet again to enter. As he waited he thought about his wife.

_At least I spared her the details, as I did when I neglected to tell her that her half-sister was apparently Theon Greyjoy's lover. There was talk that the bastard girl of Lord Eddard Stark had even helped kill her trueborn half-brothers. They say she died in the sack of Winterfell, and that no one mourns her loss. This time though, they aren't rumors. They took off the poor boy's head and gave him his direwolf's. The gods, should they exist, will avenge the Starks against the Freys. To kill a guest in your house, I don't even think my lord father would do such a thing. Although it would seem he is quite alright with arranging such evilness._

Later still, when they slept, he heard her cry out from her nightmares again. _Your mother yet lives, my lady. Hold on to that and one day, one day I promise you that you will be safely with her again._

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_Notes: UP NEXT- Talisa_

Thank you for everyone who has reviewed, follows, or has favorited this story!

_I figure this is a good place to state where the name of the story comes from :)_

_This story, and the meaning of it's name relate to the choices each generation makes. The Never-Ending Sacrifice, which comes from Star Trek, is a story about seven generations of a family that must make the choices about serving themselves or the future, themselves, family, or the nation. That's why I chose the name for this story. Each generation has made it's own decisions for love or honor, duty or family. Brandon and Rickard Stark chose family and it cost their lives. Aerys and Robert Baratheon chose themselves and it cost their lives. Lyanna and Rhaegar chose lust and died for it. Eddard Stark lived and died for honor. Robb dies because he married Jenye for honor or Talisa for love, in this story it happens to be both honor and love. Catelyn and Rosalyn make choices for family. Jon tends to make choices for honor. So on and so forth, it's the sacrifice each generation makes, a never-ending sacrifice._

_I came to the conclusion this week that Lyanna Stark is a variation of Helen of Troy, apparently I'm not the only one, but I felt like sharing._

Also Oberyn... Game of Thrones... just ugh...

_ While writing Catelyn's future chapters, I came up with an idea for her story that would be different from what I have already planned. When I reach that chapter I will mention this again. However, I want to ask what you think and help me choose which path she will take. Choose A or B._

_A- is the story as I planned it for her_

_B- is a new variation that I am pretty sure has not been done in fanfictionland, not that A has either as far as I am aware?_

No I won't make a notes section this long again.


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